200 year-old house on 25 rocky acres in high country upstate NY and SO many highbush blueberries!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Percy is my latest attempt to get a playmate for Maggie. This dog is worse than the last one. In constant motion, destructive, escape artist. Puppy stuff, except he's probably 80 pounds. I've had him for about 3 hours and I'm plotting how soon I can give him back. He's probably trainable - he didn't know his name 3 hours ago and he's got that now. I just don't know if I'm willing to be that person who's life and possessions are turned upside down for some unknown period of time. When firefighter training starts next week, I'll be away from the house at least 2 evenings a week, meaning I won't be able to be home as much as I think this dog needs. Am I talking myself out of this dog? Yes. I'm beginning to think that deep down inside I don't really want a third dog. Definitely not a rescue dog and probably not a puppy.
I'm not on a date tonight with Mr Vermont because we ended up getting together last night. Much better than I expected, one of the best first dates ever, but not likely to turn into anything. I'm OK with that; 90 minutes of driving to see someone is too much for me. It gives me hope that there are people out there who are fun to talk to and spend time with. I'm still seriously thinking of taking a break from internet dating - thinking about how much time spent on this feels like work and not fun and how much of my life is consumed by things I don't enjoy. I really want to think about getting more fun in my life and less work.