Congratulations, Mrs. von Huben, it’s a...............Husky?
Fran sat me down for a little chat last night. Her smile was too reassuring. And she graciously offered me any and as much as I desired of the huge Godiva gift basket that her boss had given her. “I have something exciting to talk to you about.” After a quick prayer and a few deep breaths to nip the starting PVC’s in the bud, I blurt out, “You’re not getting married next week, are you?” (This was the logical panic conclusion, based on the fact that she is flying to Las Vegas on Christmas night to be maid of honor in a friend’s wedding. I won’t even start on that)

She broke it to me as gently as possible that she had made arrangements with a patron of the animal hospital to adopt their 2 year old Husky. (All my previous arguments against a dog were moot. I had relied too heavily on the argument of we can barely afford food for ourselves/there’s no way I can afford veterinary care. I should have stuck with I’m finally past watching incontinent impulsive children tear my world apart, I DON’T WANT A DOG!)

Yes, I’ve had moments of guilt, thinking about depriving the boys of growing up without a puppy to play with. The boy-and-his-dog cliche is stuck in my mind more than that of a girl-and......We haven’t had a dog since Emily was a baby. It was Husky/Samoyed mix that Rick took in. Rick has lovely memories of Lloyd. All I can think of was that the precious months before the responsibilities of parenthood were spent taking a pup to the vet, cleaning up and training, and getting up in the middle of the night to let the over-heated sled dog out for a constitutional.

Fran and her father are in cahoots. There were no objections from his corner. She gets top-notch veterinary care, food samples, etc. as part of her job. Wouldn’t the boys just love a dog? Wouldn’t dog walking be great for Rick’s health?

She was going to ‘surprise’ me with the dog tomorrow. At least she showed good judgement in giving me 36 hours to adjust. And just when I thought we were home free with not having to worry about where to hang the glass ornaments on the Christmas tree, etc. etc. Now it’s like having a toddler all over again. A toddler that we’ll be babysitting because Miss Fran is going to Las Vegas for 4 days next week. AAAARRGH.

I awoke at 5:00 with a bad case of premature ventricular contractions. For a second I thought they were brought on by a bad dream. Then I remembered, tomorrow we are getting a dog. I don’t care if he is living in a Lake Shore Drive condo right now. All I can think of is chaos. What will he be doing while we’re at Grandma’s on Christmas Day? What will he do to the tree while we’re at Mass on Christmas Eve? Should I even bother washing the kitchen floor? If I weren’t planning on getting to Church early to get in the confession queue before heading off to work, I would grab one of those big Godiva boxes and head back to bed.........