Ernie, I suspect you and I have much in common. I grew up with dogs and cats, but they were never allowed inside the house. In fact, Dad wouldn't even allow one on the porch. But for a number of years when we lived in town, our daughters had a miniature poodle, but when it was finally gone, I told them they could not have another dog until they were grown and out of my house. And I told my wife she couldn't have another one until she got a divorce. That was the end of that for several months, but then I was sent to Quantico for 10 weeks. When I got home, my wife showed me this tiny ball of fur that you could almost hold in the palm of your hand (don't know what kind it was) and said, "Isn't he cute?" I said, "Yes, have you talked to a lawyer yet?" It was never mentioned again, and I don't know where it went but it wasn't there when I came home from the work the next day./w3tcompact/icons/laugh.gif However, in my old age and senility and with my wife wanting a dog, and two grown daughters and a grandson saying we "ought to have a dog" out here in the country, so I got her a dog. And as you might guess, he lays at my feet when I'm here on the computer, has to be in the recliner with me when I'm in the living room, follows me everywhere outside (except when the tractor motor starts or the air compressor), will do his best to beat me through the door anytime I open a door; house, car, or pickup, goes to his bed when he sees me going to bed, and is up and ready to go no matter what time I get up in the morning./w3tcompact/icons/laugh.gif
Bird