So… we got a dog. We got a dog almost two weeks ago, actually. He’s a black lab, his name is Sebastian (so yes, we have Isobel, a.k.a. Belle, and Sebastian — we’re insufferable hipsters!) and he’s 2-years old. He came from the SPCA. Honestly, we weren’t planning on coming home with a dog that day but we did and here he is.

I’ve been rather conflicted about the whole thing until recently. I didn’t want to get a dog until we’d come back from our trip to Oregon this autumn. I’d wanted to wait until things were settled, until it was cooler, until we actually had a lot of the things a dog would need. I wanted more time, really, more time to think and plan and dream.

He’s a pretty neat dog. We go out for runs every night. We do crate him during the day because we don’t entirely trust him around Isobel for long periods of time unsupervised. He gets chicken in his crate and a kong toy full of peanut butter. He’s growing to like it, I think. He has no idea how to play which leads me to believe that he’s been in shelters most of his life. He loves going hiking with us on Mt. Charleston, belly rubs and getting baths (which is a good thing because he has a tendency to get rather stinky). He weighs at least 60 lbs and has discovered that, if he wanted to, he could drag me along on our walks quite easily. He doesn’t bark often (thankfully) and I think we’re breaking him of his slight whining-habit.

I think I’m growing to like him just a little bit.

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