A Little Frenchy

We've somehow managed to adopt another dog. Amazingly, it wasn't my fault. Looking back now, neither was the second one. When did my wife become a dog person?? Anyway, I get the call from Lana on her way home from her daily barn time...
"I'm on my way home."
"Okay..."
"I'm bringing home a puppy."
There wasn't a question in her tone and if you know Lana that means you know she means exactly what she saying. She can say something and you can just here the challenge in her voice. I groaned at the thought of house training yet another dog nevermind the complication of our neighbor's rotting fence. When she got home though, how could I say no to a puppy? I'm not sure it would have mattered though...
One of our friends, Gina, runs a little animal rescue shelter out of her house and a neighbor brought this little guy to her. She fell in love with him and wanted to see him go to a good home. Somehow she knew Lana was the weak link and the rest is just details. Stitch (look at those ears!) fit right in with the girls. Turns out Sally is a lot more playful then even we knew! Bree's having some issues though as Stitch seems to have taken her spot in the pack so we'll have to watch her closely the next few months. He's a handful right now, constantly playing and causing trouble. Those ears crack me up every time I see him aim those radars. I'm just happy his breed gets a little bigger than we thought. I think Lana was having some thoughts about making him one of those weird little purse dogs that try to eat everyone but the weirdo who put them in the bag. After eating a late dinner with Helen we went to Walmart. We're shopping for a collar for him when Lana says he needs studs on his collar. I said I think it would look a little gay on dog that small and Helen was quick to point out, "But he is a French Bulldog!" Har, Har. Sometimes it's painful, but always amusing.