Spent the morning at Carrie's new mansion's neighborhood pool. This was Jack's (aka Fat Boy's) first "swimming" experience, and after a few initial cries (of joy, I'm sure) he calmed down and seemed to enjoy the water. My initial plan was to just throw him in and let his instincts take over (which is what we did with Bones and it worked just fine), but Carrie told me if I did that I'd be out of the running for the Mom of the Year award. Something about canines having different instincts than humans. And I've been coveting that gold-plated mini mini-van MOY trophy since the day Jack was born. It now sits atop Carrie's mantle.
Mentioning Bones/Jack made me think of another recent story that I'll share with you. I took Bones in for her yearly checkup a month or so ago. When the vet asked me how everything was going, I told her that we had a new baby in the house that Bones was having to adjust to. The vet said, "Oh, really? What kind?" I paused for quite some time, wondering what the appropriate response would be. Was it "Caucasian"? "Male"? "Homo Sapien"? She really stumped me. I finally came up with "A seven-weeker", figuring that to be safe and generic. Only then did I realize that the vet thought that when I said "baby" I meant a new pet.
No offense, Bones, but you're my "dog".
Anyway, I digress from the swimming story. A good time was had by all and a good nap was had by Jack when we got home.
