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May 24, 2010

Meet  Hoover.

Hoover is a rascal. My  grandmother would have said he was full of piss and vinegar. She would have been right.

Hoover thinks he deserves to be a part of everything we do, everywhere we go and any move we make. Literally. Exhaustively. Daily. Like a newborn, except he’s not, he’s one.

I used to like Hoover, but used to be’s just lay on the floor till you sweep them away. ( name that song/artist) If you ignore Hoover say to take out the trash, talk to a neighbor, write a blog, or if the wind blows, or doesn’t blow he will bark. A lot. ( we like to eat soup or not eat soup– name that movie)

My children and Coach , who I also used to like,  bought Hoover for Beauty’s 9th birthday last summer.  My girlfriend and I were out antique shopping when they called with the glorious news. “New Puppy”. I am not sure what the lesson is here but I’m pretty sure it’s not about antique shopping because really, that is never wrong. Ever.     I’m fairly sure the lesson is- mom said to get an older dog who was trained. People should listen to mom more often don’t you think?  I digress.

Today, Hoover did this.

Sorry for the bad photos only had my phone today.

For lunch he nibbled on new flip-flops and I just caught him trying to trash can tip, which sounds like a fraternity drinking game. It’s not, as far as I know.

We should have named him Tornado.

I am working on my anger management issues and peace negotiations. He is working on 40 winks, obviously  tired from a busy day.

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