Pete the dog
I’ve written on several occasions about what had been the pending arrival of our new pup. Well, he’s here. And after much indecision and back and forth, we decided to call him Pete.
Pete the golden retriever arrived at our home Sept. 11 and quickly became the epicenter of our home. Suddenly, our two kids are little angels who do anything we ask. Take Pete out? Yup. Feed him? No problem. Wear him out before you go to school? Love to, Dad.
It’s not all sunshine and roses, of course. Suddenly, my life revolves around a eight-week old, 7-pound dog that just sort of stares blankly at me whenever I open my mouth. But it’s all good, and we’re working diligently with the little fella so he understands what we’re trying to tell him.
At this point, it’s hard for me to envision him romping through a CRP field or swimming into a pond to retrieve a duck. That all seems a little too big when all I really want is for him to relieve himself outside. As I said, it’s a work in progress, and based on my conversations with a bunch of you, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
There’s not a whole lot more to say about Pete. He seems like a super-friendly dog with a relatively calm temperament. We’re up early enough in the morning to watch the Canada geese fly from the ponds to wherever it is they eat, and Pete seems pretty interested in the honking, so I suppose that’s a good thing. But we’re both totally new to this game, so I don’t think there are any firm conclusions to draw.
Anyway, that’s a little bit about Pete. I look forward to writing about him again when I know him a little better.