Sunday,
March 17, 2002

He's Gone. Kinda.

Okay, technically Pooch is gone. I think. See, Jolene picked him up to take him over to the potential new owners, and offered to keep him overnight (an offer I accepted with gratitude, being something of a tired puppy myself).

I took a bit of a celebratory nap earlier in the evening, during which time Lyndon got a call from Jolene. The other couple want him, but they're in the middle of moving so they can't take him until Friday, so can we watch him until Friday? Lyndon, who is somewhat tired himself by this point, explains that we're going to be gone on Friday and that she'd need to come get him on Thursday.

Oh, that's no problem -- she'll come get him first thing Friday, Jolene says.

Um, no -- we're going to be gone on Friday, Lyndon repeats.

This continues for a bit, going back and forth with Jolene insisting that she'll pick him up bright and early Friday and Lyndon trying to convince her that we're not going to BE here Friday. Somehow this segues into Jolene asking if she can come over and drop off Pooch with us now, since she's right in the neighborhood and all. Lyndon gets a little exasperated at this ("I'd been looking forward to a dogless night and morning, to be honest," he told me later) and says that it's not convenient, and he was under the impression that she would be taking Pooch overnight.

Apparently she acquiesced, because the dog is not here and I can actually look forward to a morning of not having a large animal whine, leap and look at me adoringly while I stumble out to watch him pee and poop. I can handle it for the rest of the week, no problem -- it's just nice to get a break right now.