Yo quiero Taco Bell.

There is never a good time to have kids or move and I did just that....or both of "thats." I changed cities and jobs in a matter of a few weeks and have found myself adjusting well to my new situation (shockingly).

I guess a part of me thought I had it too easy and after lusting over my coworkers adopted puppies and perusing the company classifieds I was, in fact, dog crazy. I found one online but the dog came with issues, a moody owner and apparently the desire to piss his life away mark everything in sight. Next idea....only look at girl dogs. I jumped to the humane society's web page and found several adult dog options. One was a terrier and the other was a Chihuahua mix. I never thought I would consider a Taco Bell dog, but a few days later there I sat at the Greater Birmingham Humane Society filling out paper work. Who knew you couldn't pet dogs until you had signed your life away? (Must be part of the gimmick..by the time you fill out paper work and wait an hour and a half you might as well get a dog).
Did they bother to tell me you could only see three dogs in a day? Nope. Well I had to pick three...I found the little nacho cheese dog I had called about. Pros: Housebroken (possibly), crate trained, 3 years old. Cons: She had been knocked up, she was a Chihuahua, she might have separation anxiety, did I mention she was a Chihuahua? I had waited nearly two hours and I was finally going to see her. Immediately she was shaking in my arms. Great...what's next peeing? I held her and let her wander around. She seemed to be holding on for dear life. I played with her to the best of my ability. She felt so tiny and so very frightened. I let the handler take her back and asked about the terrier. She was eight or nine and not remotely house broken. I vetoed. Sadly I had seen a St. Bernard and fallen in love. I asked to see her knowing that there was no way in hell I could have that beast, but she was the gentlest giant sitting and staying on command. She did slobber and shed enough to plaster my jeans in a thick coating of spit and fur. Gross, but true...so maybe the little chi-wow-wow was for me.

I asked to see her again.....