Shakespeare The Border Collie (yes, a dog!)

I would like to introduce you to the newest member of the Maust gang....

                          ...Presenting (drum roll please)....Shakespeare!

                          Awwwww, isn't he cute? 

It all started with Bubbles, a Border Collie mix that belonged to my niece and nephews, years ago. I always liked that dog and thought to myself that someday, I'd too have a Border Collie. 

Fast forward through the years, and Rex (bassett hound/collie), Mollie (beagle), Ty (boxer), and Rico (beagle/westie) and you can see that the Border Collie hasn't happened yet. Yet (famous last words). 

Until that ad showed up at Springs Store.

Until my three youngest wrote a two-page contract outlining who was caring for the possible puppy, where he would stay, what all was involved in caring for a puppy and that they understood the responsibility. And that if conditions of the contract were not met, the parents could dole out whatever consequence they deemed fit. (muwahahahaha) 

Until yesterday, after driving an hour and a half to a farm and being met by boisterous, friendly, and cute puppies (12 weeks old) that just wagged all over and pretty much said, "Pick Me!!!"

Until I caved. 

And said, "Yes."

Because even though I know a pet comes with added responsibility, it also comes with bunches of fun all wrapped up in dog kisses and awkward dog smiles, leaps of joy as he romps with my kids, and the feeling you get (you know, all warm and fuzzy) when his paw reaches up and touches your arm, just as he cocks his head to one side with one ear up, and looks at you with those puppy eyes. 

Oh my. What have I gotten myself into? 

The kids promised to train him. I want them to train Shakespeare how to herd the cats right out of my gardens, but yet not be tempted to roll, dig or frolic through them himself. I am not asking for much. 

I do want to see him herd the cats. And chickens. 

"That'll do, Shakespeare, that'll do." 

I thought we should call him Darwin; I mean we do have a cat named Martha, so why not? It could be fun to write about Darwin chasing Martha around the yard. Do I need to mention that Darwin and Martha are my parent's names?

But I like Shakespeare.

Martha, on the other hand, does not. She is wondering what on earth possessed us to bring this intruder into her yard. She hopes he is not staying, but even in just the less than 12 hours since he arrived here (he traveled very well in the car, by the way), he's already become attached to us.

Or should I say it's the other way around?

Love,
Dianne