Correction: when I was nine I decided I wanted a dog. I then progressed to ask Santa, yearly, for a dog. Then last year I got creative and gave him an option: a dog or a boy. So he gave me a boy. Which was nice of him and all, and boys are almost as good as dogs, but I was hoping a boy would be more difficult to produce than a dog. But no. So this year I asked for a dog. Just a dog. No options this year, no risks.
So when my boyfriend's stinky roommate and his two stinky dogs moved out and I got the text "Maybe we should get a dog." I was fairly sure Santa outdid himself. And then when we drove to Laramie and saw "Patty" who is a German Shepherd and Australian Sheep Dog mix and were told her real name was Patron, I knew he was sitting in the North Pole going "I done good."
Patron is currently lying on my floor twitching around and sniffing the carpet. Earlier, we discovered the reason she wouldn't eat is because she dislikes bowls and prefers to eat off a plate. She enjoys drinking water but only when she can control her ADD for long enough to focus.
Anyway, Aaron went back to school yesterday and we got a dog. Sometimes, when I think about the 19 credit semester or the impending doom that will be searching for an internship, I remember that these moments, the moments where we get to pretend like we have it all together and adopt a dog, those are the ones that make it all bearable.
