Why in the world, you may wonder, would a dog name her sometime weekly blog post "Flopsy Squeakerton"? My question to you would be "Why do I have to put up with a puppy named "Flopsy Squeakerton?" Damn! Another puppy.
I was just minding my own business yesterday when Dad (that traitor!) came home with this fluffy, rambunctious, 8-month-old, flopsy puppy. He's a lab-shepherd mix. He was either born right before or right after his mom was rescued from animal control (we've got to check on that). He was adopted from Hope Rescues once, but came back after only a month. This wasn't his fault. The family that adopted him went through a divorce and decided a puppy was too much to add to the stress of their changing situations. Poor dog. Anyway, I hope he won't be here to long!
One thing Barb says is that he is super soft. He feels like a rabbit or something. I guess it must feel nice 'cause the people in the house keep petting him and carrying on about how soft he is. And, luckily, he seems to be housebroken. That's good since Chili can't seem to get the hang of pooping outside!
There is a good possibility that Flopsy will be gone soon. A man who met him yesterday wants to introduce him to his wife. They may be stopping by later today. Jackie said he can't go home with them until they fill out the application for him. So I'm hoping they do that before they come by. But Barb says to stop complaining. He's been a good houseguest. He was quiet all night even though his kennel is downstairs in the hearth room and we all slept upstairs in our rooms.
I'll let you know how it goes when I post next week.
Thanks for stopping by! Wish me luck.
Oh, by the way, I may be wasting away to nothing by the time you see me next. Ginger and I have been put on a diet and Barb is giving us "diet" dog food. Ugh. But maybe Dad will stop calling me Sassy Fat-Assy once I've gotten my girlish figure back.
Have a great Sunday!