Truck shopping

Six fucking trucks/suvs and not one was good enough. I don't care, I may sneak off and buy the Jeep Wagoneer 4x4 for a back-up momvan. Supercool and super tough. But the very last stop of the day brought us to a little mechanic's shop to look at a Toyota T-100 4x4 with topper. I didn't look at it once because I was accosted in the yard by an adorable black lab/boxer mix with a very worn tennis ball in her mouth. For 30 minutes, we played a spirited game of fetch and keep away. A little tug of war going on too. She was absolutely sweet and adorable and totally what the girls need for a new dog.

So, the marital unit was wrapping up his bloviating with the mechanic and the dog and I wandered into the shop for a quick kibble and water break. Her owner said, "Oh, there you are Charlie." Shit. Charlie? No freaking way. We started talking about her while she laid on my feet chewing my sneakers, and I found out she was 8 months old and named Charlie for the big white "C" on her chest. I gave my new buddy a hug and one more toss of the ball, and headed back to the momvan with my head down. Thinking. Her momma got knocked up shortly after I lost MY Charlie. I looked back and she was sitting there in the yard with her tennis ball, tail thumping, whining a little. I knew all I had to do was whistle, open the sliding door and bug out. I'd trade the man for the dog in a heartbeat. But alas...

I drove the hour back, listening to hubby bitch, with a lump in my throat and trying to hold back the tears. No sense giving him something to pick at. But I realized today, I'm ready for a new dog. It's time.