A few months ago, I had a laugh-out-loud moment reading an acquaintance’s Facebook status. It read: “In our greatest act of self-sabotage yet, we got a puppy!”
It resonated with me, because we had just gotten a puppy ourselves and were questioning every day in every way whether we had made the right decision. We had been so careful to find a puppy that was hypoallergenic and non-shedding, both to accommodate Isaac’s allergies and asthma and my low-maintenance household cleaning requirements. We researched and asked all of the right questions to make sure we were getting a kid-friendly, family dog.
We looked at rescues and we looked at breeds, and we finally found the puppy we wanted. He was a Whoodle, a Wheaten Terrier/Miniature-Poodle mix, a beautiful little puppy with soft wheaty curls and a little black beard. (Rescue folks, please don’t judge me, but…) We flew him in from Idaho to surprise the kids and become part of our family. Precious moments ensued, followed by chaos.
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