Lincoln
"Anything going on this weekend?" I suspect my wife will answer this question at least two more times before Saturday. She reminded me that we were going to Starved Rock to see the eagles on Saturday.
"Oh yeah. Well, what about Sunday?"
"The Super Bowl is Sunday but we don't have any plans."
"The Super Bowl is THIS Sunday? Who's playing?"
The truth is, Jamie already told me once that day about Starved Rock but I cannot keep from flushing the data from my head when an idea pops in it. Jamie wanted a puppy for about two years or so but we kept putting it off. I am a "dog person" in every sense of the description but had drifted to a state of contentment without the chaos and burden a dog brings. In fact, I had actually grown to like the cats. One of them, anyway. All the same, it was clear on her face that when a puppy did not appear on her birthday, she was disappointed, despite her efforts to conceal it.
I guess I need to get us a dog.
" I was thinking that maybe we could look at one of the dogs at the shelter."
Jamie's entire body subtly responded to this suggestion. "Okay."
The excitement bubbled over and I was even becoming anxious about the prospect of having a dog again. On Sunday, I came home from work eager to have everyone pile in the van and run off to Huntley but the atmosphere had soured and I was in the dark as to why.
"The power is out in yours and Gabriel's room. I tried resetting the breaker a few times and unplugging some stuff, but it just keeps tripping, " reported our eldest son.
For crying out loud. I draw in a deep breath and remind myself not to kill the messenger. He helped me solve the problem and then I moved to the next task: finding out why the enthusiasm evaporated for the dog.
The pups she saw online that she liked were gone.
SIGH. "Well, why don't we just run over there and see if they have one we like?" I am getting a bit maniacal now -- I wonder if I am coming off like Clark Griswold after the moose tells him Wally World is closed.
Jamie relents and we five are soon on our way to Huntley. Our first four choices had been adopted and another that I liked was being cooed by a family like ours.
Dammit.
Jesse was selected from the web page and a volunteer brought him out for us to meet. Promising, I suppose. I glance at our eldest son, Jordan, and we immediately understand that if we don't act fast, the other three in the household were going to take this one home without any consideration of others. We ask to see Bucky and the young man tells me in a hushed voice that Bucky requires some extra attention and was brought back once because he was too anxious.
Great, a special needs dog?
Jesse was exchanged and Bucky made his defects of character obvious. I almost felt bad enough to take him out of pity. Bucky was returned and the guy suggested a look at Sarge.
"The St. Bernard? Uh, no thanks. Drool and a short life span was not on our qualities list."
We came home with Jesse and a I got a fat tax deduction for next year. Which brought us to the name. Around and around we went until we had decided on Chancellor, Chance for short. I was childishly happy, as I had been the one to come up with the name. It was short lived. By the time I got home on Monday, his permanent name was Lincoln, as selected by our youngest.
We should have named him Chews-on-the-couch-he-is-not-supposed-to-sit-on-but-does-anyway, but that may have been a bit too long.
Lincoln
"Anything going on this weekend?" I suspect my wife will answer this question at least two more times before Saturday. She reminded me that we were going to Starved Rock to see the eagles on Saturday.
"Oh yeah. Well, what about Sunday?"
"The Super Bowl is Sunday but we don't have any plans."
"The Super Bowl is THIS Sunday? Who's playing?"
The truth is, Jamie already told me once that day about Starved Rock but I cannot keep from flushing the data from my head when an idea pops in it. Jamie wanted a puppy for about two years or so but we kept putting it off. I am a "dog person" in every sense of the description but had drifted to a state of contentment without the chaos and burden a dog brings. In fact, I had actually grown to like the cats. One of them, anyway. All the same, it was clear on her face that when a puppy did not appear on her birthday, she was disappointed, despite her efforts to conceal it.
I guess I need to get us a dog.
" I was thinking that maybe we could look at one of the dogs at the shelter."
Jamie's entire body subtly responded to this suggestion. "Okay."
The excitement bubbled over and I was even becoming anxious about the prospect of having a dog again. On Sunday, I came home from work eager to have everyone pile in the van and run off to Huntley but the atmosphere had soured and I was in the dark as to why.
"The power is out in yours and Gabriel's room. I tried resetting the breaker a few times and unplugging some stuff, but it just keeps tripping, " reported our eldest son.
For crying out loud. I draw in a deep breath and remind myself not to kill the messenger. He helped me solve the problem and then I moved to the next task: finding out why the enthusiasm evaporated for the dog.
The pups she saw online that she liked were gone.
SIGH. "Well, why don't we just run over there and see if they have one we like?" I am getting a bit maniacal now -- I wonder if I am coming off like Clark Griswold after the moose tells him Wally World is closed.
Jamie relents and we five are soon on our way to Huntley. Our first four choices had been adopted and another that I liked was being cooed by a family like ours.
Dammit.
Jesse was selected from the web page and a volunteer brought him out for us to meet. Promising, I suppose. I glance at our eldest son, Jordan, and we immediately understand that if we don't act fast, the other three in the household were going to take this one home without any consideration of others. We ask to see Bucky and the young man tells me in a hushed voice that Bucky requires some extra attention and was brought back once because he was too anxious.
Great, a special needs dog?
Jesse was exchanged and Bucky made his defects of character obvious. I almost felt bad enough to take him out of pity. Bucky was returned and the guy suggested a look at Sarge.
"The St. Bernard? Uh, no thanks. Drool and a short life span was not on our qualities list."
We came home with Jesse and a I got a fat tax deduction for next year. Which brought us to the name. Around and around we went until we had decided on Chancellor, Chance for short. I was childishly happy, as I had been the one to come up with the name. It was short lived. By the time I got home on Monday, his permanent name was Lincoln, as selected by our youngest.
We should have named him Chews-on-the-couch-he-is-not-supposed-to-sit-on-but-does-anyway, but that may have been a bit too long.