So we got this puppy back around Thanksgiving.
She’s a Cocker Spaniel. That makes three of them in the house.
And, for as much as my parents complain about me being back home, they don’t seem at all upset about further crowding their formerly empty nest with canines. Shows me where I rank, I guess?
Her name is Belle, and she’s an adorable terror. She chews on everything, is constantly underfoot and is always giving these irresistible puppy eyes, for which I have no defense. But—and it’s important that you remember this, in light of the eyes—she’s naughtier than anything.
My mom insists that I don’t tell her she’s a “bad puppy.” Instead, I can only tell her she’s a good puppy who sometimes does bad things.
Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is absolutely absurd.
You see what kind of nut house I’m living in here? ;-)
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