Welcome Home

Not only are we welcoming you to our new blogventure, but this first post is all about welcoming dear Watson into our two-bedroom doghouse. He’s been with us for almost two months, but you haven’t, so we want to start at the beginning.

Jake and I had been talking about getting a dog for some time. Evaluating costs, time, space, weather, and pretty much everything else that goes into a more-or-less life changing undertaking such as adopting a pup. We’d checked out local shelters, looked online at rescue centers throughout the Midwest, and spread the word to friends and family — probably to the point of annoyance (sorry!). But all of that pestering paid off.

Late one night in March 2012, I received this text from a coworker (CW):

CW: Are you and Jake still considering getting a baby?

My internal response: H-E-double hockey sticks NO!


My internal response: OMG! OMG! He looks like a bernese mountain dog! Of course!

CW: Friends of mine found this little guy… He’s free…

Look at that fluffy black fur, dipstick tail, stocking paws, and milk mustache. Who doesn’t love a puppy milk mustache?! Needless to say, I giddily squealed, jumped all over the apartment doghouse, and told Jake we had to meet him asap (despite the fact that he looked huuuuge for only being six weeks). Two days later we were set to meet the little fella in an Arby’s parking lot north of town (don’t worry, it was in broad daylight). On the drive there,we agreed that we were about 80 percent sure we would take him home that day. In hindsight, we both know he was 100 percent coming home with us. There was no way we’d be able to say no to an adorable abandoned puppy. Well, maybe it isn’t so much in hindsight… we did stop at PetsMart to get a collar and leash (color-coordinated to his fur, of course) before we headed north.

Pulling into the parking lot, we spotted two women standing outside their car holding what seemed to be an empty towel. Once we approached them we saw the smallest pup nestled inside. Right then he was ours. The women, who had been calling him Theodore (this was even more meant to be — we are “How I Met Your Mother”‘s number one fans), explained how they found him under a truck in a driveway, couldn’t find any of his brothers and sisters in the nearby woods, and took him to a friend’s kennel for a few days.

We held him, let him walk stumble around, and obviously, said YES! With no pedigree, no name, and no known history, we decided it was now or never, and seriously, could you have said “never” to this milk-mustachioed face?:



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