Samson

I’m a father. 

I adopted today a dog, a Feist, part of the terrier bloodlines.  He’s small but mighty.  I’ve named him Samson.

Samson is much loved by all, already.  The folks at the Humane Society were all, to a person, cheering and rejoicing that he was ‘going home.’  They made me promise to bring him back by for a visit too. 

Samson is eight years old, give or take.  He’s fathered all the little spawn he will ever father.

I hear him snoring in the library right now, as I sit in my office at home.

I lunched with a friend from college today, so Corby stayed with Samson here at home.  He reports that Sam is loveable and happy and a great lap dog.  That’s exactly what I was wanting.

My home is complete.