right now, the only thing I can think about is next Tuesday at 11 AM central. For years and years–since I was barely eight years old–I have dreamed of getting a dog. My very own doggy–not one shared by brothers and sisters, but MY dog. But I have also tried to be generally responsible. I didn’t want to get a dog in college–I had roommates. And I was always so busy in grad schools, and I lived in places that didn’t allow animals, and then I worked jobs that required me to spend billions of hours away from home. . . . Needless to say, it was all just a little disappointing, and I was dogless.

But, lo and behold. I finished my job, and now I can get my heart’s desire: a puppy. I have been talking about this dog endlessly. I talked about this dog so much that my incredible critique partners threw me a surprise puppy shower at Nationals–and many of the people who visit this blog came.

Yesterday, I drove down to visit the litter. The little dogs are all adorable. At this age, they aren’t much bigger than large hamsters, but they are still loving and wonderful. They mobbed me en masse once they figured out that I brought treats.

And Tuesday at 11 AM, I pick up my dog. Later that day, or maybe Wednesday, I’ll post pictures. I promise not to be an annoying dog owner, who can’t talk anything but puppy. But for the first few days, I’ll probably annoy the pants off of everyone I meet.

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