“Just make yourself at home,” the sarcastic comment was directed to the Golden Retriever Puppy that had taken no time to jump up and PLOP on my couch.

“I love my daughter,” I muttered,  to no one in particular.

My daughter Autumn was why I, with a phobia of furry creatures, had gotten a dog. Her best friend Sarah had moved away across the country to perpetually sunny  L.A a week ago.  Autumn needed company

Ugh.  It had been my husband, Dan’s, idea to do this.  I knew it would make Amber smile, so here we were.  The dog had no name yet.  He perched on the couch, wagging his entire back end at me, smiling.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”  His warm brown eyes seemed to absorb everything I said.  “You be low-maintenance, and I will choose to be polite to you.”

He swiped a big paw over his floppy ear, then tried to bite it as it fell back into his face.  The effort caused him to fall over sideways.  Trying to scramble up, he managed to roll onto the carpet.

“Yip!”  he scrambled to his feet, wagging his butt harder than ever.

“I see we have an understanding.”  I couldn’t resist stroking his silky head a little, then retreated to the kitchen to put newspaper down.




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