I have to admit I’ve gotten rather attached to the dog. Sure he smells, and sure he’s quite a handful but the thought of something bad happening to him, makes my heart break. Recently, his friend got ran over by a car. His owner, Michael’s friend is really sad and depressed. It’s hard to make it surreal that he’s gone because I just saw him about a week ago. His butt is a pain when he’s being bad. He’s still a puppy so he pees and poop on the carpet whenever we forget to take him out but he’s getting better at telling us when he wants to go, which is like every freaking hour or less. But all in all, sigh, I hope I don’t regret saying this but.. I love that little doofus.