My foreign exchange poo

GIMMIE THE BALL.....GIMMIE THE BALL...C'MON GIMMIE THE BALL

I swore up and down...and up and down....that I WAS NOT gonna get another dog. Uhhhhh....huhhhhhh. Then, along came my foreign exchange dog. Lilla. Or Illa as the kids call her. Or Cheese Sticks as Hank wanted to call her. But not, Pieceofshit dog like Brad calls her.

I would like to formerly introduce you to the newest member of our family.........drumroll please....Lila Kimberly Kowieski. My little Shipoo. And, I love my little Shipoo.

For the first week I had to "trick" (it wasn't exactly a lie) and tell Brad that we were babysitting her. My niece is allergic to dogs and had to get rid of both her dogs. So, I being the caring Aunt that I am, decided to save this poor dog from euthanization. (This wasn't going to happen, but if I pretend like it was an option it makes lying to my husband seem not so bad.) Brad hates. HATES. These kind of dogs. The chances of him ever actually choosing this dog as a family pet are about as good as me putting a Fat Head of Ocho Cinco up on my living room wall. Some things just aren't gonna happen. So, I just said we were babysitting. Brad asked "how long?" I said "not sure." Well....I'm not sure.....8 years, 10 years 14 years. I just can't honestly answer that now can I?

It only took him about 2 days....of Lila sleeping on the kids beds and being carried all over be me to realize she's here to stay. (And, yes Brad, I do realize she can walk. She just likes to be carried.) I think he's warming up to her. He actually said "she'd be cool if she was a big dog." Baby steps.....baby steps.