Ok, I am now completely convinced that the apocolypse is upon us. I know I have been saying that for the last five or so months (basically since Wyatt started eating meat, Quarters is considering going back to school, Pete- well let's not even go there, and so on and so forth. Well, today I found out that my father has consented to get a dog.

A bit of background here. My father thinks animals are filthy. That's another Dad Fact, if you're paying attention. But anyhow, when we wanted a dog we had to go through all sorts of hoops for literally seven years before he stopped saying no (at which point my mom took us to get the coolest dog in the history of the world when he was on a buisness trip). He stayed living at our house about eight months after that. The dog stayed for twelve years.

Anyhow, I am truely amazed that he has agreed to this. Granted, it is a small, accessory dog. A purse dog. And there is-get this-a waiting list that they are on to get one. Sorry, I'm used to saying, ok, I want a dog, time to go to the pound and see who's there. They are on a waiting list for a little rat dog.

Also I've figured out where my father's resistance to having a dog comes from. Maybe he does really see them as dirty, and he really is allergic. But I think he overempathizes with them. He can't stand the look on their faces when you leave. I can understand that, but I know they are skilled at that and will be jubillant when you get home.

Anyhow, just my view on why the world is about to end.

-This entry is dedicated in loving memory to Murphy

-CRbE