The Red Report

The impossible has happened. We got a dog named Red. He is my friend Tamera's dog but they are moving to Colorado and couldn't bring him. So he came to live out the rest of his days with us. The big red dog.

We first met him two years ago at the bus stop. He came every morning and Connor would give him a pat pat. He was only 2 back then! He called him "Puppy Red" rather than just "Red". I would go get Connor out of his crib and he would be cranky. So I would say "Do you think Puppy Red is going to be at the bus stop?" and that would get Connor moving and motivated to get up and dressed.

Then after the bus stop Tamera and I would walk around the neighborhood and Red would tag along. Sniffing and peeing. Peeing and sniffing. Limping along like the old man he is. If he was a person he would be in front of me at Walmart pushing a walker with tennis balls on the legs.

And now he's ours. And Connor still calls him Puppy Red, even though he hasn't been a puppy since "Memento" was in theaters.

I feel bad that we can't just tell him that he lives here now. Tamera and her girls came by last night to drop him off. It's weird that he doesn't understand that he isn't going back home. But what can you do?

You know I'm not a dog person. That hasn't changed. But I'm not a kid person either, and I have two of those. So I guess I'll adjust. I feel the same about him as I did the kids when I got them. Like "eh, I guess I'll take you home and keep you alive until your not my responsibility anymore." But the kids grew on me... and I'm sure Red will too. He kind of already has.