The funniest blog on the face of the planet. Usually.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Fourteen years ago, our youngest daughter wrote "The Shih-Tzu Report," which proclaimed in no uncertain terms the 10 top reasons why our family had to get this breed of dog.
We read it. We argued it. We bided our time. Shortly thereafter, Bandit, 3, was dropped off by his owners at the Hinsdale Humane Society, where we visited one day later. After much sniffing and general reconnoitering, he jumped up into Anna's 9-year-old lap. "You're sunk!" our eldest whispered to me.
You know how this ends: in a matter of days, Bandit had his own chair at our dinner table. (We're not very educated in the dog-owning department, just the dog breed itself.)
And so to our 17-year-old Bandit, who enjoyed a walk yesterday on the Whalon Lake bike path and sniffed every wildlife hazard along the way, Happy Birthday. According to the Internet, that makes you somewhere between 81 and 84 years old.