O.P. is a terrific pet. He needs to be fixed. Dogs who have been studs often have a little marking behavior that can put a damper on everything you don't want dampened.
Here is this little dude, running around the house in a baby blue diaper. He plays with passion, licks with affection, romps with devotion, and jaunts outside to shed his blue on-it bonnet, jumping like a little furry god.
My heart is won, and my conquest is lost.
New dog? No dog. I have to share. It came from a special source. And someone else had a previous claim, which we weren't sure would happen.
It happened. My little weird video-ella is just a frag of this and a frag of that, kind of a mural of my heart right now: a little bit me, a little bit O.P., a little bit freed, and a little bit on someone else's lead.
I get to share the experience, to help out, to take him at times. He's just not MINE anymore.
Oh well. Maybe it's a good thing. I always have a special spot for black labs, for German Wirehaired Pointers, for big German dogs, for Ridgebacks. And there are mutts going on the jeopardy list every moment. Maybe this is just my time to save another life.
(I'm just going to miss the life I'd imagined with little O.P. Know what I mean? Better to have loved and lost. I have definitely loved. What an amazingly wonderful problem.)