Our family wanted a dog when we moved into our first house. We found an adorable, but neurotic puppy on an adoption site. Astaire walked in the door and upended everything. He counter-surfed, napkin-grabbed and pizza-stole his way into our hearts. Our second dog, Graham, came from another adoption site and slid right into the family routine. Astaire was thrilled to have a brother to join him in ripping up the garden and for wrestling matches. We were a happy two-dog, three-cat, three-kid home. There was more than enough chaos and affection for me.
That’s when my husband called. He said a co-worker’s dog was going to give birth to a litter of puppies and had offered one to us. I said, “Absolutely not! There’s no way we can handle three dogs in this house.”
I gave that response every time he brought up the idea.
When the puppies were ready to be given away, my husband sent a photo of the hand-picked puppy. My heart swelled as I thought, “Oh my goodness, he’s adorable!” But I still held firm. He said, “Let me bring him home to see what the boys think.”
I must have made some noise that sounded like assent, because he showed up at the house 30 minutes later, puppy in hand. I met him at the car, took the puppy from him, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. My “Oops Puppy” is the dog I’ve always wanted.
Amy Goetz is a FoodE Expert for Lunds & Byerlys Woodbury. She helps customers with recipe ideas, teaches cooking classes and plans events. She writes about food and recipes.
