Funny thing happened on the way to my latest post. I started writing it. Really I did. I had this massive brain storm, and I pounded the keys for a few days. Made all sorts of headway. Really I did. Then on Saturday I picked up my latest foster pup Lexie, and I fell madly in love for four solid days.
Four days of puppy snuggles.
Four days of ZOMG is she not the cutest, smartest, bestest puppy in the whole world?
Four solid days of gazing lovingly into her sweet liquid eyes.
Four days of “hey universe, you want me to keep this one don’t you?”
Then something happened somewhere in between days four and the dawning of day five — I fell out of love.
I still love the puppy snuggles.
How can you not love the puppy breath?
I still think ZOMG that is one cute puppy. She is the smartest, and the bestest puppy.
But all the signs that I saw so clearly on days one through four have gotten a little frayed around the edges. Could it be lack of sleep? 
Sure, blame the puppy. Could it be loss of motivation? Sure blame the puppy. You wouldn’t be able to get much done if she was on your lap either. Could it be that after a few days of getting comfy here, the puppy ended up on the naughty list? It was bound to happen, all pups inevitably do end up on the naughty list.
No amount of “what are the odds?” that she would land at my house looking like Beck, and like my Charlee before her. No amount of this dog shares the same birth date of 3 of my previous dogs. No amount of watching Lexie snuggle on the couch in the crook of my daughter’s knee is going to be enough to enable us to add a third dog at this time. Lexie can’t stay. It is a choice of the wallet and not of the heart.
Right?
