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Romeo
was perhaps not the wisest choice we ever made. Our cats
are still reminding us of this fact.
In 2003, after settling in after our move, we finally got a dog.
This was after our daugther started saying "I want a puppy,
mummy."
So after much agonizing we went to the pound and adopted Romeo
(who, by the way, was named by my daughter after the dog who
used to live next door to us last summer). Romeo was only 6 or
7 months old, but very well behaved, and already house-trained
(yay!). There's not much to say about Romeo -- he's a dog, the
cats hate him, and he's going to approximately double his size.
UPDATE: Romeo didn't settle into our house well at all.
He terrorized the cats, and and began herding our daughter into
the corner and marking her. We ended up taking him back to the
pound, which I felt terrible about. However we got a phone call
from an agency in Calgary about a year later; they had found
"our" dog. Apparently someone had adopted him and not updated
the microchip information! We contacted the pound and they
tracked down his new owner. We were happy to hear he had found
someone to take him, as he really did deserve a good home.
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