My wife's parents were journeying north to drop off her sister at College. Yes, summer's over.
Anyway, the dog:
He's cute... and quiet. Thankfully quiet. And really sleepy. All the time. He snores like my dad.
Anyway, the dog, we want a dog, no question about that.
But it was so damned interesting, how the dog just integrated himself into our lives:
He came in, took a quick tour of the house and hopped in to bed and took a nap (it was 7 am or so).
No fighting, no fussing, no barking, no peeing... nothing.
"This is my new life, now, I guess. At least they don't own a kennel. Oh well... I'm sleepy." At least, that's what I imagine the thought process is.
The dog my parents owned, Rocky (creative, innit), he was cute, too. But a brat.
And if you ever took him anywhere that he thought might be his new permanent home, there was barking... and biting and pissing all over the place.
And he'd do that for a week and a half, before he'd finally succumb to the inevitable.
But here's this dog.
Fucking Ghandi.
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