He was so excited to see us....he didn't know we went to France...he doesn't know what France is....he was just glad to have his Mom and sister home. Dad left for Spain the same day (we crossed in the air ironically) and it turns out he loves the kennel, so our guilt was minimal....what kind of dog loves the kennel??
This is the story of our little adopted dog, Thaddeus, the love of all of our lives. Isn't is wonderful how dogs are neutral territory? No matter what happens between the occupants of a home, the dog remains the friend to all of them.
Wh
en we brought this little scraggly mutt home six months ago, he had very little hair and was afraid of everything. Life on the street had not been kind, but his rescuer showered him with love...and a name much bigger than he was.....Cheryl was very clear that we didn't have to take this sad example of a pup - or his name...but we couldn't resist. We would rescue Thaddeus...but he was really rescuing us. More on that later.
My daughter, Charlotte, and I brought him home to Dad...Sylvain. We never tell the Frenchman when we go to find a dog. It's better to make dog ownership a "fait accompli" than to waste time on discussion. But, this dog came with a twist...a thoroughly Anglican name. The Frenchman said "Non! Vee cannut keep ziss name...vat is ziss Taddyoost...who the #$%^ calls a duug Taddyoost??!"
"Tant pis!" The name was not to be changed. Honestly, what a sophisticated, elegant name for a bundle of fur (yes, it all grew back).
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