My next door neighbor, Carol, has a new dog. I haven't seen such a cute dog since Baily. He reminds me of Baily except his hair is short and curly. He's an all white, squirmy, little ball of fur. He reminds me of Cookie across the alley. I asked what kind he was and Carol said he is a special breed called Daisy (dog's name is Casey) bred for people with allergies. The breeder is in Grand Rapids and has a web site called daisydogs.com. Carol is going to be a very good mom.
The Holliday Park policy is no pets for new move-ins but if you had a pet and it dies you have a specific amount of time to replace it. I drove security Wednesday night with a lady that had only been here for 2 years and was getting a kitten. I had no plans to turn her in or anything but she continued with the explanation that she had been so depressed since her husband died last October that her doctor has written a prescription for a kitten and our board of directors is processing it. She is very excited and can't wait to get it. I'm happy to know there is a loophole for people who need it. I thought the no-pet policy was kind of harsh.
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I wish I had a no pet policy. I mean I'm glad that lady will get her kitten, but whenever I feel slightly guilty over hating our dog, I just remember the poop. The dog thinks it's ok to poop in my sitting room (and my bedroom if she can ever get in it). So now I am getting pretty diligent at keeping the sitting room door closed. Then I feel bad about cutting off from the kids--I want them to feel welcome to come into the sitting room. Of course Marisa is well aware that as much as we like many of the same programs, I will still want to be in charge of the remote. And Adam understands that if I don't see him throwing the ball in the living room, I probably won't say anything, but when he tries to throw anything in my sitting room, I put a stop to that. So it's not like my sitting room is all that friendly a place to begin with. But this morning I came home and the door was open and the dog was back there. That steams my petuka to no end. I know that I closed the door and I took Adam to school. Marisa really knows better and Mel is sick in bed. It was either Adrienne or Taj. We'll call it Taj who might not know any better, but my petuka is still steamed. I don't like green eggs and ham--I don't like them sam I am. Not even when they are cute.
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