Must love dogs

I pretty much wrote this post in my head on Saturday afternoon. It was going to be a post about how crazy spontaneous and easily persuaded we are, and how just like that, we adopted a new dog.

Except just like that, we didn't.

Chris and I were in St. Louis for his cousin's wedding this weekend. On Saturday afternoon, on our way from breakfast to a post-wedding picnic (the wedding was on Friday night), Chris' dad had to stop to pick up some new reading glasses, so the rest of us went into the Petco next door rather than bake in the 100-degree heat. We thought we'd get Rosie a souvenir from St. Louis. That souvenir turned out to be a 3-year-old Great Pyrenees. He had been abandoned in a campground, and he was adorable and docile and affectionate and slobbery and ENORMOUS. We fell in love immediately. We talked to his foster mom and got some information on the adoption process and said we'd think about it for a few hours.

Then, we went to the picnic for about two hours and talked about it and decided that yes, we MUST adopt this dog. It was fate. So, we went back to Petco approximately 3 hours after our first visit, and he was gone. Already adopted out to another family that so, totally will not love him as much as we would of. Jerks.

So now, we're seriously thinking about getting a second dog. Rosie could use a playmate. In fact, every time we dogsit, Rosie gets extremely depressed after the other dog goes home. She needs a friend. A really big, slobbery, fluffy friend. The hunt is on.