A love story

Today is our Andy-Panda's 7th birthday, and what a joy he has been, for Jimmy as much as me.  He wasn't quite a year old when Jimmy was diagnosed with cancer, and had it not been for our daughter-in-law Mary, we would've had to give him away. She and Jackie kept him for us, off and on for at least a year and a half.

My 17-year-old long-haired chihuahua Teddy had died a few months before, leaving that hole in the heart only a dog can fill. Jimmy had said We Are Not Getting Another Dog, but as I was driving down Oak Street Extension, the pet shop drew me in like a magnet.

There was a little fenced area on the floor, with a dozen or so precious puppies, tumbling and toddling around.  "Can I hold him?"  I asked the salesgirl, pointing. "The Shih Tzu?" "No, that little black one, playing with the ball."  He was the ugliest of the bunch, but it was love at first sight.

I have AKC papers on him, but if he's a purebred chihuahua, I'm a teapot.  But no matter.  Jimmy forgave me for buying him (eventually) and fell in love with him, too, and we've all lived happily ever after.