It Was I, Not The Owl…

We eventually got an indoor dog. Noelle had initially wanted a giant, ass-kicking superdog, but realized that our situation and living environment wouldn’t support such a choice.

So, we got a little anklebiter – not that he’d ever bite – of a Bischon Frise, and appropriately named him Spike, short for William The Bloody. Take a bow, Buffy fans.

Crating Spike proved less than effective, which didn’t much bother us, since it’s a hit-and-miss technique, and we (Spike included) were happier with him roaming freer than that.

Anyway, all … There’s more of this shit. Click here.