An Anniversary

Three years ago we had just moved into our house. We were hosting Thankgiving for the first time. I remember those days of innocence...back when we had carpet...

While I had been working with the rescue group for a couple of years by that point, I didn't foster dogs because we'd never been in our own house (plus, we owned a neurotic Springer that would try to eat them, but that's a whole 'nother story for another day). So, this particular Thanksgiving was to be the first time I took care of a foster in a long while. I was just supposed to be "babysitting" for a few days til the regular foster mom got back in town, but It was Fergus. He of the soulful eyes and marathon cuddling. Mr. I'm Gonna Put my Paw Gently on your Knee and Stare at You Until You Pet Me. By the end of the weekend, we were toast.

If I knew then that he'd have a penchant for wearing my underwear on his head and how many dead frogs I'd have to pry out of his mouth every Spring... nah, who am I kidding? I'd still be toast. Puddy in his hands. So tomorrow marks our three year anniversary with the Ferg. He's Fergalicious.