â€œHeâ€™s cute. He looks like Cooper,â€ I replied. (Isnâ€™t he cute?) â€œWhy is he in our kitchen?â€
â€œHis name is Bobby.â€
â€œIs he staying?â€ Because that would really be a LOT of testosterone in my house.
Something was afoot. Earlier this year I posted a photo of an adorably fluffy black lab puppy looking for a home. â€œThere better not be a puppy in the living room when I get homeâ€¦â€ Jonâ€™s commented response read loud and clear.
Today, our current two wacky four-legged residents were running wild in the backyard while an appraiser snapped photos of our house. Through the window looking out onto our front yard, Jon saw a woman carrying an unhappy dog (â€œI am not a small child lady! Youâ€™re missing the point of my walk!â€) and dragging a cranky pup behind her.
â€œIs this your dog?â€ the frazzled lady asked as soon as Jon poked his head out the door to offer assistance. â€œHe just darted out of that yard.â€ (â€œThat yardâ€ being our neighborâ€™s, who has no fence. We are intimately familiar with trying to coral rogue escape artists from this yard.)
Shortly thereafter, Jon had custody of the dog.
He was a yellow lab, but almost completely white. He had the pointed American retriever build, but without Cooperâ€™s stocky chest.
He was a good dog. He knew his name; he was a little confused that Jon knew his name. (â€œBobby?â€ <doggie head tilt>) He knew Sit. He knew Shake.
Stay was a little shaky.
Thankfully he had a Home Again tag. Yay for microchips! (This is not an ad or sponsored post, but Iâ€™m a big fan of microchipping. Cooper got marched down the vet right quick after our first weekâ€™s adventure.)
By the time I finished lunch, I received word that Bobbyâ€™s playdate had come to an end. I am pleased to share that he did not eat any household items. Perhaps this is why he was initially viewed as a viable replacement for Scout (who devoured my sunflower seeds and a muppet placemat this week).
â€˜Til next time Bobby, Stay! And donâ€™t give Cooper any more ideas.