A dirty secret: I have never been around dogs much at all, having never owned one, and therefore I have always been very uncomfortable around them. I'm a cat person, through and through; some part of me deeply sympathizes and even empathizes with all the Crazy Cat Ladies out there. Dogs are mysterious beasts to me.
But now, we have one. His name is Hurricane. No, that name does not make me less nervous about this whole thing. I'd quite frankly be more comfortable with a fat bulldog named Wilbur, but that just wasn't in the cards.
As I write this, he's been "our dog" for, oh, an hour or so. I'm sitting in my library while he whines from inside his crate. I guess we'll figure this out. The Wife and Daughter are really excited. I'm just thinking I'll hang out over here for a little while. I expect dogs will be like kids for me: actually having one will make me fine with the one we have, but I'm unlikely to be comfortable with others.
So, here's Hurricane.
And here are Lester and Julio not being all that cool with Hurricane quite yet.
This ought to be one of my more interesting autumns, eh?