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All I Want To Do is Get Rid of the Dog

I spend a great deal of time wanting a fresh new puppy. I think every time I have a baby (okay, three times) I have this need to get a new black puppy. I hide this from Barry because he would rather we had less dogs, in fact, he would rather there were no dogs, and possibly less children. But I can't stop myself. This black dog we've had for five years is a bust, he's a loner, a rebel. I almost gave him to two gay guys and they backed out at the last minute because I was too honest and told them the truth. The dog is WEIRD. He may jump out of your yard, he may take days before he lets you pet him, he may bite your neighbor. But, well, he's ours. Five years from now he'll be a great dog. I'm hoping he'll be somebody else's great dog. But then we go on the trail and he's polite, comes when he's called, stands right next to you, acts normal. He's no trouble in the house, sleeps at the foot of the bed, just like a cat. We'll see what happens.