Happy Little Trees

I keep toying with the idea of getting a dog. I keep thinking, 'Well, I'm not responsible enough to care for a dog...I used to feed my dog at midnight (hence, her name Midnight).' But in reality, I had that dog from age 11-26. She lived 15 years. And was very well behaved.
 
I thought about getting a bag of flour, pretending I had a dog for awhile like a middle school project, but I feel I've proved myself in other ways. I've also spent 57% of my adult life while in Houston watching everyone else in the worlds' dogs. So apparently, I have doggie-care skills. I feel I'm the doggie version of Mary Poppins, and I finally want my own kid.
 
I don't want a puppy. I want a dog that's already house-broken, because I don't want the dog to break my house. I do want a lump of fluff that's not annoying.
 
For the next couple of weeks, I'm going to start getting my house doggie ready. And maybe by spring, I'll have my very own real, live dog. And not one that I can open to make a batch of cookies.

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