“Cute dog” ends hapless K-9 drought
The last dog I had was a cocker spaniel named Ginger. That was in 1984. I was 14 years old or so and not spending much time at home, so my parents pre-emptively adopted her. A couple of years later my parents invited me to move out, which I did into an apartment in London, Ontario.
My new apartment didn’t allow pets. “If it isn’t human and casts a shadow, it can’t be here” was the gist of the landlord’s lengthy rules speech. That moment was the beginning of my personal doggie drought, in concert with so many good reasons and selfish excuses for not getting a new canine companion. Playing in a band and touring, college, the birth of my daughter Jazmine, moving to New York City, moving to Seattle then Glen Ellen and being fairly transient in general are just a few of the reasons. Some better than others.
The drought is over! Note that the aforementioned drought applies only to puppies and not California drought conditions, which are bad. Meet Buckley, who is at press time, an eight-week-old bundle of fuzzy, fluffy fun. Buckley is the new special correspondent for the Kenwood Press, he will be keeping office hours and greeting customers and readers alike at our new office space in Glen Ellen.
Melissa and I have had him for three days now. It feels like I’m on some kind of puppy bender with weird hours, suspicious solids and fluids begat by enslaving cuteness. He plays, he sleeps, rinse and repeat. It’s like he has a battery that only lasts 45 minutes then needs to recharge.
We will keep you posted on his progress once in a while, unless we get hate mail about him. In that case we will update you more. — Paul Goguen