Went to PetLand over the long weekend...saw a pug and wanted to fall in love with it (especially after the horrendous traffic we had to sit through on 95..."This dog better be worth it..."). While he was small and cute, and had those wobbly eyes that are supposed to be adorable - but really just creeped me out, Ray could tell..."He's just not your dog."
There was nothing wrong with the little fella. It reminded me of my Match.com dating days. There just wasn't a love connection. Besides, what we really want is a French Bulldog. And we want it when the cat is dead. Otherwise, enduring a puppy in the/her house would probably kill her.
So I've replaced the dog-longing with another fixation. Knitting! I'm going to produce the world's most comfy scarf. However, I'm going to have to learn how to relax when knitting and purling. I was getting a little belligerent with the needles. Shoving the buggers through too tight loops in the yarn wasn't conducive to the zen-like state I was hoping for. My shoulders and right index finger are killing me. I can barely type. In fact, I'm going to stop.