His name is Watson, and he's a 16 week old Golden Doodle who was returned to the breeder for being "stubborn." The good news is he's already house-trained and hasn't had any accidents inside. Unfortunately, his goal seems to be chewing his way through everything I own, including the wooden legs on the furniture and baseboards. Yes, I do have bones, balls, and enough toys to sink a battleship. He likes those too, but wood is delicious, don't you know?
Anyway, our Boudreaux needed a friend since sweet Liza Jane passed last year. Boudreaux is busy humping the puppy and convincing him who is top dog. Constantly. I'm hoping this stage will pass quickly. :-/
In my last book, Love, Alabama, I wrote in a Golden Retriever/Lab mix named Big Al, whose purpose in life was to liberate the squeaker from every toy he met as quickly as possible with as much stuffing spread as far and wide as possible. I believe I cursed myself as I was writing.
|Today's Carnage Thus Far|
But, as you can see, he's a beauty, and as long as I don't have to clean up the really nasty stuff, I'm ahead of the game. Plus, it keeps me from sniffing sheets, which is pathetic. My independent two-legged boy is happy and healthy, and independent, and I couldn't be more thrilled. But I do miss him.
As summer ends, I'm refocused on finishing my third Alabama novel. I can't wait to see it in print! I doubt that thrill will ever end.
Have a wonderful week!