My husband and I operated a very exclusive doggie day care for the past year. We had only one client: our daughter and her boyfriend's exuberant German Shepherd mix named Toby. Either Erin or Elliot dropped him off at six each work day and picked him up about twelve hours later. They lived in an apartment. We have a yard and a doggie door, a doggie door my husband had permanently sealed (or so he thought) after the death of our last dog. We had no intention of getting another.
Don't get me wrong. I don't dislike dogs. I grew up on a farm. I rode horses, milked cows, fed chickens and pigs. We also had several dogs through the years, but they were "outside" animals. My mother would never consider allowing them indoors anymore than she'd invite the pigs or chickens into the family room. Read more . . .
Tom, Erin and Mozart in 2000 |
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