Puppy

This is my puppy.

You can call him Stoney. That's what I call him. I've been getting a lot of weird faces from people when I tell them his name. I didn't name him Stoney because I am a stoner, people. In fact, I am very far from it. Haven't even tried the stuff. He's named after Stoney LaRue, a country singer. Geezy petes people, git your mind outta the gutter.

Anyways, I got my pup from my adopted family I mentioned before. He was a special delivery from Colorado to Amarillo. I never even met my pup until he was put in my arms when he got to Texas, and the pizza delivery girl said "here's your dog". I tipped her two bucks and she was on her way. Seriously though, some really nice lady was moving from the town my pup was in to Amarillo the week he was ready to weaned. Coincidence? It was meant to be.

These pictures are from when I first got him. Err, when he was first delivered to me at 8 weeks old. That was only two months ago, but I feel like he's grown like 10 feet since October 30th.

Raising my first puppy has made me realize that I'm going to be a terrible mother. I'm going to latch on and never let go of my kids. I want four kids. Well, at least three. I can't even imagine going through the trauma of sending my kids off to college. Four times.

Ok, probably just three times.

I love my puppy. He turned four months old on the 2nd of January, and he'll be turning ten years old next month.