At home, the adventures with Hank the Tank continue. Hank’s my first puppy (Kiki was already at least one when I brought her home) and I can tell you that I unequivocally had no idea what I was getting myself into. Now don’t get me wrong, Hank is a genius. In the not quite 3 days that we’ve had him, he’s already learned how to love his crate, walk on a leash, and sleep through the night. He even goes outside to the back yard to go potty nine times out of ten. It’s the 10th time that kills me. This morning I rolled up my oriental rug from the living room and stuck it in the man room. My beautiful rug is ruined by the way. Hank’s urine must have plutonium in it because the 4 times that he’s wet on it have left huge stains. No matter what I try, they’re not coming up. I’m just going to go with it. God grant me the power and all that…
And then Sam got some great news; his car is heading towards the light. You know what I mean, that great big car lot in the sky. The old Saab has about 50 miles left before it’s unsafe for the road. 50 miles translates into us having like a day to buy a new car. Maybe we can trade Hank in. Kidding, kidding…
The third of trifecta is that Sam and I are still in need of someone to watch Hank while we’re in Memphis for his dad’s birthday. When did I forget to have a petsitter on speed dial? I feel like a new mother who has no clue what she’s doing except that this baby doesn’t look anything like me. (it’s the tail I think) My mother always told me that things came in threes and surprise, surprise she’s right again.