L-O-L-A

For the past five years Leah has wanted another dog. For her lap. We've never been able to agree on a breed. But we knew if we ever came to an agreement we wanted to rescue one because Oprah told us to. So last week Leah sent me pics from this blog and said she wanted a basset. The combination of Miss Jackson and a basset hound seemed pretty hilarious, so we asked Google if any bassets needed rescued in Cincinnati. S.A.A.P. had four puppies. The story goes, the mom was a basset and the dad was a rolling stone (maybe a beagle?), the owners didn't approve and gave the pups up. And, it just so happened that S.A.A.P. was taking a batch of homeless dogs to a Cricket store down in Florence, Ya'll. So we went to "just check it out." We left with Lola. I vowed to never go thru the puppy thing ever again and his dog made me a lying liar.

And so I'm quite confident this decision will have numerous consequences. So far, the biggest is that our home has been invaded by obscene levels of cuteness. It's pathetic, but nearly everything she does is mesmerizing. And I think this is a universal truth. When we walk her, cars slow down, point and smile. I'm thinking we could convince terrorists to quit it if we just sent them a box of puppies. Bewitch them with floppy, clumsy, cuddly, and extremely needy agents of mass distraction.