Her name is Lola... she's not a show dog

This, ladies and gents, is my dog Lola.

Lola is my co-dependent fur child. My shadow. My snuggler.

I remember swearing off getting another dog after having to put my Boston Terrier, Boomer, down due to lung cancer. But, time passed... and face it, I'm just a dog person. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Dogs are the one TRUE source of unconditional love we mere humans can ever hope to experience here on earth. Period! It's that simple. Therefore, knowing you can have THAT -- who WOULDN'T want a dog I axe ya? (Yes, I did that on purpose. Don't try to correct my Urbanese!)

So, come November I decided it was time and so I scoured papers for locals that had puppies for sale.

I found one.

Yeah, I did.

I decided to go over there "just to look" I said.

I followed my directions, pulled off the road and onto a heavily treed cul-de-sac. I made my way to the door and was invited into the back yard to see the puppies. There were many. It was this little mass of fur and teeth and yips and tumbles and puppy breath. They were SO STINKIN ADORABLE!

Let's be real here, how can you NOT love a puppy? They're so sweet and cuddly and soft and, well, yeah, dumb...

I carefully made my way through the pups one by one figuring out which had the markings I liked...and which had this... which was the runt... Ultimately, I chose one they'd named White Cloud (Isn't there a toilet paper named that?) Why? Because she had a heart murmur and I didn't want her to NOT be chosen. Plus, she was ADORABLE!

I wasn't going to buy one that day but the owner said he and his family were going out of town for Thanksgiving and I asked what they were going to do with the puppies. "Leave them here out back..." and I just KNEW that MY puppy wasn't going to be left outside IN THE COLD!!!!! I bought her. Yes, I did.

She was so sweet and little and possessed that precious puppy breath. I was in love. I brought her home to meet Drew that afternoon.  I'm not sure she knew what to think of her... or her of him for that matter.  

The rest is history.  

She was carried around inside my red robe (I would put on my robe, tie it and then insert her inside with her head peeping out) from the get go.  She'd sleep there.  She loved it.  She still thinks she belongs in there now (at 20 pounds!)  

She has slept next to me since she was brought home.  Yes, I'm one of THOSE people.  I'm not the only one, however.  Josh turned her into a snuggler, too.  He was sick this day and she just snuggled right up to him on the couch.

I love her.  She's my little girl.

She is SO well behaved.  I wouldn't expect less, however.  She still won't sit on command.  If you tell her to, she looks rather offended.  Also, she's defective in that she doesn't wag her tail.  But that's okay... I know when she's happy!

She doesn't do tricks.  Being adorable is her go-to move.  She's above the dog-and-pony show.  Parlor tricks are beneath her.  

Unfortunately, I've made her a TAD co-dependent. If I go away for the night, she won't eat... she won't even hardly leave her cage.  It's truly pathetic.  She goes into this depressive funk and until she hears my voice when I walk back through the door... you'd never knew we had a Boston!

Bostons are my breed.  Black and white goes with everything, does it not?  Entered into the Weekly Writer's Workshop... just cause it's so dern fun!