The world hasn't ended, but it's highly likely that hell has indeed frozen over.

We got a dog.

Anyone who knows me knows how ridiculous that is. The girl you know and love is unreasonably afraid of dogs and kept having kids to avoid getting her child a pet. I understand the distress this may cause. But this isn't another Harold Camping prediction that people will never take seriously in the first place and then be immortalized into popular culture by an excellent Parks and Recreation episode.

This is real life people. And this is happening.

Dave and I made the decision to get a dog much like we decided to get married and have kids. It can be summed up with the phrase, "That seems awesome. Let's do it!" It's worked out so well for us so far, how can we ever learn our lesson?

Now that's not to say that we didn't try to be reasonable about it. First, we talked about it for a couple weeks. Then, our beloved pet rat Tofu died, and so we thought, "Let's really look seriously at this whole 'dog' thing." We googled dogs for like 27 whole minutes and planned to go to the Austin Animal Center (i.e. the Pound) after the kids went to school.

But then Otto stayed home sick. We couldn't very well wait until the next day. That's for smart people! Those internet dogs were super cute. So we told Otto we had a little errand to run, but that he had to keep it completely secret. (It should be noted that Otto is well known for his excellent memory as well as for his complete inability to keep a secret. In the end, it wouldn't matter.)

We drove to the Pound and took a tour. We (responsibly) spoke with a counselor about several of the small dogs we liked and wanted to get more information on. All of which were too new to interact with, except one. She had been in foster care for about a month, adopted two days ago and returned within 24 hours. Let's take a look, we say!

A nice kid took us back to the the cages and said, "Oh, you want to see that mean one?" Uh...yes? That's the one. Nothing doing. She backed into a corner and growled when he tried to coax her out. He suggested I approach the cage while it was closed. She came up sniffing and wagging. He asked if I wanted to try to take her out. Sure I do! She gave me a little lick. We took her out to a pen to play and she jumped around excitedly, rolling over to get pet, wagging her little tail. All remaining wisps of reason dissipated. We had imprinted.

We said we were interested, and so they gave us the low down on her: She was picked up as a stray on the street, knocked up and running with a pack of chihuahuas who had been menacing neighborhood children.

Perfect! We'll take her!

And that was that. One free leash and 10 minutes of paperwork later, we were walking out the door with Penny. (It's the name she came with, which suits her perfectly and happens to be the fortuitous namesake of one of our favorite Pee-Wee's Playhouse segments.)

She does growl at children; the smaller the better. (We imagine her saying, "I think I can take this one. I got this!") She doesn't like men, although she has been slowly warming to Dave who bribes her with bacon. (Smart boy.) Although she loves and plays with him, she sometimes sees Otto as her competition and doesn't like giving him space beside me on the couch. (Otto wins, incase there was any doubt.) She is house-trained but prefers to poop in the house, if given the choice. (It's nice and cozy in there!)

We all enjoy imagining what her life must have been like before and how wonderful it is now. When she's not begging for a belly rub or being fed an alarming amount of treats, she has long naps in whatever sunny spot she can find.

She perfectly fits our imperfect family. And we love each other!