Furball Number One

I'm not sure what one posts about the day after breaking up with her family. Seems a tough act to follow. So, I could post about:

- the fact that Health Canada is very likely to tell me my water bottle causes cancer. or something.

- the fact that Wikkipedia is telling women that if they just breathe deeply, they can stave off pre-eclampsia. Damn, if only I had known.

- what I'm knitting at the moment.

- the fact that Mr. Spit is out of Town. (Yes, if you wanted to break into my house and kill me in my sleep, this would be a good time to do it. But honestly, wait, my mother is waaaaay ahead of you!)

- I bought this jacket at JC Penny, on sale (yes, I buy my clothes across the border and have them shipped.) I'm not sure it fits on me, or if it just looks really funny, so I wanted your opinion. I think I look a bit Quasimodo-ish in it.

But really, I thought I'd introduce you to one of the family members I'm not going to dump.

You've met Mr. Spit. So who else?

Ahh, I've got it.

Just on Sunday Mr. Spit was asking why we had dogs (The larger one had had another "accident" in the bathroom). I pointed out that there was one simple reason we had dogs. . . . .

All I have to do to make the "fur children" happy is to come home. There is no one else in the world I can say that about. Mr. Spit likes me, an awful lot, but honestly he's not always thrilled to see me.

This critter on the other hand?

I'm the greatest thing in the universe to her. And all I have to do is show up. And rub her belly. And feed her. And tell her she's a pretty girl. And love her. And rub her belly, and dress her up in bandanna's. And let her sleep wherever she wants.

Yep, this is Maggie. She's our first "fur child", we've had her for 7 years now. She's gone from being an obsessive, neurotic genius to being a sweet, well rounded dog. Hasn't eaten anything in a long time. Which is good, because the first year it was three (3!) seat belts, a coke can, a rock, a pumice stone, a kennel, several blankets, a few books, some clothing . . . We had a dog who went to daycare, she couldn't be left alone. (She turned into a barking, quivering pile of goo - a bit of separation anxiety, that)

There she is. Do you wonder why she has a fan club?

And in answer to your questions:

Border collie with some German shepherd, and maybe some whippet. Honestly, she's a generic brown dog.

Yep, weighs about 50 pounds.

No, her full name is actually Margaret Thatcher, but I have no idea why. She's about as unlike the Iron Lady as you can get.

Yes, she's very loving. Hasn't met a person she doesn't like. Except maybe the cat. And sometimes her "little" sister.