The Thing About Puppies

On Friday morning of last week, I woke up at the crack of dawn (or at 6:30 am, whatever) and drove to Ottawa. I was on a mission - a puppy mission.

"You got a puppy?" a friend would ask me later. "What happened to your other dog?"

"Oh," I would say, "he died." Of course, that would be a lie. Dog did not die. Dog is just fine. Dog was just lonely with no dog friends to play with all day, and so it was decided that Dog would get a dog of his own.

Enter Hudson.

Hudson is just a little guy.
At 16 pounds, he is approximately 1/25th of the size he will be once grown. Actually, I just made that up, but he is way smaller right now than he will be in two years. THAT is a fact.
In case you are wondering, that is not me holding the little explorer in the above photo (Hudson is named after Henry Hudson, explorer and discoverer of the Hudson Bay.. or, as the French would say, 'Baie D'Hudson, huh, huh, huh.'). It is my younger brother. My arms are not quite so hairy and the hair on my chin, while present, is much lighter.
And to answer your other unspoken question, yes, I do plan to one day mutiny against Hudson, casting him adrift somewhere around James Bay.... never to be heard from again. But, that probably won't happen for at least two or three more weeks.