If your religion only allows you to read women’s college topics and such, steer clear.

Gonna hit that rewind button that’s covered in marinara sauce & all natural peanut butter for a second and tell you about Milo.

I’ve been begging my mom for a dog for about a year. I should clarify, we have a dog, my favorite pup in the world, Homer.  He just turned 13 and we’ve had him since he was 6 weeks old. But being the greedy, unsatisfiable poop I am, I want another.

Such a preshie-weshi! just wook at that missing tooth.

Since he’s an old man now, he’s mostly blind and losing his hearing and I thought a companion would cheer him up and comfort him. I was half right.

We got him a harness recently so we can steer him more efficiently when we go on walks:

so fancy in his tux.

Anyhoozers – I beg, beg, beggity begged and FINALLY (and rather surprisingly) both ma + pa conceded at the end of last summer.  We visited countless animal shelters and rescues, never falling in love, never finding a perfect fit, always leaving feeling defeated, our hands sticky with the slobbery kisses of homeless pups.

Then, by the grace of whomever governs the universe, we found Milo.

10 months old, rescued from an abandoned house with doody on the floor and trash bags full of cut up dogs (serious), all part of a nasty cruelty case that may or may not show up on Animal Planet one day (probably not).  He had lived there for the first 6 months of his life with his mom and fellow adorable puppy litter mates.  But the real reason we chose him was because the shelter had named him ‘Giggles’ and that right there, that was the real tear-jerker.

Now he’s part of our family but I never get to see him because I’m at college! HAH! what was i thinking…..

So they’re brothers now. I throw up from cuteness overload quite a bit.

I probably lost all of the non-animal-lovers a while back… but I’ll make a connection to the overarching theme of my blog just for the sake of it now:

Any dog walked on MHC campus will get more attention from the students than a limping zebra gets from lionesses on the hunt for dinner.  I hope that didn’t sound wrong.  The dogs get pet a lot is all I was going for.  This is usually how it goes:

‘AW! What a cute puppy dog! Can I pet your puppy dog?’

‘She’s fifteen but yea sure’

‘Thanks! awww! I miss my puppy dog! What’s this one’s name? Mine’s name is Carta, like the Magna Carta. She’s brown and has one white paw! She loves swimming at our lake house in Maine.  She chewed up my camera case but I forgave her..’

‘Uh…This is Bison, see you later’

‘AW! Okay, bye Bison! If you ever need a dog walker…’

So much enthusiasm.  So much discomfort.

I’ll leave you with an aerial view of big and little brother:

(oof, tough angle Homer, sorry about that)