This past summer one of my parents neighbors, a man in his 50's, dropped dead of a heart attack. My mum called me to tell me the news and to share how she and dad were dealing with it. Apparently their verbal processing eventually reached a logical conclusion. In mum's words: "We just said, 'Fuck it, life's short. Let's get a Labradoodle.' "
The parents got The Doodle a couple months ago and he has quickly become the new favorite child.
The parents got The Doodle a couple months ago and he has quickly become the new favorite child.
Evidence of Favorite Child Status:
1. The Doodles headshot is the biggest picture on the living room family photo wall. It’s significantly larger than even the human childrens’ senior portraits.
2. [spoiler alert: ...this is where it gets weird] My dad asked if I could spin The Doodle’s fur into yarn to be made into a sweater when he gets his first haircut. (really) I told him that would be creepy but possible. Mum rolled her eyes but dad looked pensive. I won’t be surprised if I get a bag of Doodle fur in the mail in the next couple months to comb, spin, ply and knit.
3. When I called my mum last week to find out how my 25 year old brother was doing after his nose surgery this is how the conversation went:
Me: Hey, how’s my brother doing?
Mom: Oh he’s great! We just gave him a bath.
Me: Eww. Mom. What?
Mom: Oh! You mean your human brother. He’s good. He’s got drugs and TiVo.
Me: Oh good.
Mom: And your other brother just learned to fetch the paper and to ring a bell when he needs to poop! He’s a genius! I’ll send you a video.
