So there I was, doing what any right thinking, elderly American man would be doing . . . lying down and resting. At about 11am
It's Tim Cunning, our beloved, kindly, and wild-eyed Irish president of our Kiwanis Club.
"I was having breakfast with the kids and when we left we saw a bunch of dogs running around, one of which was just a little puppy. It ran out into the street and then would come back, then back into the street."
One of the waitresses said . . ."yep, there goes another pup that's gonna get run over.'
"Then it hit me. That innocent little pup is gonna get killed, I gotta do something."
"So I went and picked the little thing up and looked around for its owner. No one knew who the pup belonged to. And I thought of you."
"What kinda pup?" sez me.
"Little thing. Small pup. Short haired, terrier, female."
"Well," sez me, "I don't know if the cats would accept her, or vice versa. I suppose we could keep her for a day or two and see how they adapted; bring her on by and we'll take a look at her. Are the kids with you?"
"Yes, both Morgan and Andrew are with me."
"Well, I might keep one or two of them as well. Come on by."
About three minutes later he was here, with the kids. And the puppy.
Quiet little mousy thing. I like my pups to have some spunk. To be playful, curious, adventurous. This one liked to sleep.
Morgan was holding her and petting her, while she slept. I could see that Morgan was already getting attached . . . which is what Tim was worried about. They already have four dogs.
At first Evelyn was reluctant to take the puppy. "If we take her she's YOUR dog! You'll have to feed her, take care of her, clean up after her. I'm just too busy. Too many other things to do."
"Well," I sez, "that settles it. Out in the street with the little tyke. Let a car or two run over her. Here . . Evelyn, why don't you hold the puppy just for a few minutes before we throw her to the wolves."
Ever the obedient woman, Evelyn held the puppy and I knew right then we were gonna have a new puppy in the house. I could see Evelyn melting right in front of me as that pup laid its head into the crook of her neck and just commenced to snooze, big as you please.
After a few minutes, Evelyn allowed as how maybe, just maybe, we would keep the pup for a day or two.
As to a name? I suggested "Trixie," as that had been the name of all the dogs I had ever known.
In unison, Tim and Evelyn said, "No! This pup's name will NOT be Trixie!"
They kicked around a few names and then Tim and the kids left for home . . . leaving Evelyn, and me . . . and Trixie.
Farfle, one of the cats, crept out slowly and the two looked at each other. Farfle even tried to make friends with Trixie, gently holding a paw out to touch . . . but Trixie withdrew . . . a little on the shy side. She wags her tale when she sees me. She sleeps a lot, as puppies do. She slept for about an hour with me . . . she's on Evelyn's chest right now, sound asleep, as is Evelyn (who supposedly was watching Dr. Phil).
The house is finally complete. A man. A woman. Some cats. And a puppy.
We gots a puppy! We gots a puppy! And her name is Trixie!