Hey, y'all.
Let's agree to ignore the part where I took a year or two off from blogging. We'll just say nothing interesting happened in the interim.
We kicked off 2020 with a new puppy, which I want to be very clear was zero percent my idea. Our ancient, ornery, awesome dog Ella passed away last year and both of you kids wrote impassioned letters to Santa about how you'd do anything for a new puppy, so your dad drove me out to the Humane Society, "just to look." There was an old floppy basset hound mix who looked like he'd enjoy jogging about as much as I do, and I was all for HIM. But your dad looked into the kennel next door and we ended up coming home with this joker:
You kids were so surprised and ecstatic to meet him, I'll admit it was precious.
On his first night in the house, the puppy still had to sleep in a crate in the kitchen. Hagen camped out in a sleeping bag next to him so he wouldn't get a lonely. He even wore a headlamp just in case he needed to check in on the puppy.
We named the dog Archer and he's the worst. True story: God makes irritating things cute so you're less inclined to open your front door and encourage them to "Go, be free!" by kicking them out with your foot.
He's a husky/lab mix who got the worst traits from both breeds (So much enthusiasm! So little sense!), and your dad is working diligently to turn him into a respectable sled dog. I'm not sure it's working.
In the meantime, I tell him several times a day that he's not my dog, but he doesn't seem to be buying it. Your dad tells him every night that Ella was never allowed on our bed and was a superior dog in every way. But that doesn't seem to stop Archie from falling asleep right on top of your dad. Maybe he's not dumb - maybe he's a genius.
Love,
Mom
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