Puppy love

Last night we played with a baby boxer puppy who was available for adoption. We called him Fred, and he may be the best temperment puppy I've ever handled. He was boisterous and hopping around playing, living up to the name boxer batting at D's hands. I flipped him on his back and he just lay there, didn't squirm to right himself at all. When I picked him up and held him at arms length he again calmly accepted it. Not like Windy, who hates to even be pushed onto her side. We played with his pudgy cheeks, oh boxers are so adorably meat-headed, you just want to grab their pudge and kiss them. He was really really cute. This isn't him, but gives an idea of their cheeky pudginess and rumply forehead -- look at that chin, oh my goodness (ok I'm talking in baby talk at this point, glad you can't hear it).
Anway, after playing with him at talking a bit about it, we decided to leave -- without Fred. And now I'm so glad we didn't get a puppy. It's so nice to sleep through the night, and trust the dogs off lead, and not walk around every day trying to see what got chewed up when you weren't looking, and carpet cleaning during house breaking, and all that. I've been getting that feeling lately like I'd like another puppy, and I was surprised that when confronted with one I really liked, I easily decided against it right now. Besides, I really don't think Katie would like it.