So, I see a post about a puppy on Bowen Island, that is ready for “guardianship”.

I wonder… what the heck does guardianship mean when dealing with dogs. I think maybe a part time doggy or… I don’t know, so I PM the lady to find out more.

A short time later, Marian calls me to give me the buzz…. She says, “Have we got a deal for you!” There is a 8 week old “woodoole” — yup, a woodoole… a mix of a wheaten terrier and of course some sort of doodled, looking for a home.

The deal with guardianship is, the dog, … normally $2500. (cough, cough) is FREE!

The catch is, you agree to let the dog have three litters of puppies, for the breeder, over the next six years.

I said, I would talk to Ken, as I am a bit impulsive.

Two minutes after talking to Marian, I had named the puppy Vera, and imagined her sleeping under my feet while I sewed, eating my shoes, and romping at the dog park.

Ken is and always has been, the voice of reason.

His hard no wasn’t immediate. He reminded me, that there are enough dogs in the world — that we’d want to spay any dog we got. And… we’ve talked about it — a puppy, no.

Dang it. Of course he is right — I totally agree with him.

Wednesday, a mere seven months after Boze died, Ken found a green plastic poop bag, in the pocket of a coat, he hasn’t worn for a while. I know he didn’t say no for any other reason, than he is caring and wise.

Plus, while I agree wholeheartedly… I get to say, Ken said no.

Ahhhh… Vera… the path not taken.