Today's post was originally all about my little southern boy.
That's right, Gus is a Georgia boy. Atlanta, to be precise.
Gus is our first rescue puppy. And our first non-golden retriever.
But as I started writing about Gus, I kept making references to Rosie and Gracie, the dogs I had before Gus. After many editing attempts, trying to keep to the subject of Gus, I decided to just start from the beginning.
We've had two goldens.
First, there was Rosie.
Why did I get a golden retriever? I wanted a dog, a big dog. I didn't care what kind of dog, as long as it was big.
I don't know if Mr. Terrific wanted a dog. I didn't ask him. I did know that he liked golden retrievers. I logically came to the conclusion that getting a golden retriever would fulfill my wish for a big dog, and that there would be no protests from my husband because the dog would be the breed that he loved most.
Rosie was awesome. When she was a year old, Caitie was born.
Rosie didn't seem to mind.
Then came Sean. Great! Two playmates. And then Erin came along.
Three was never a crowd as far as Rosie was concerned.