So at the last minute, my dog was taken away.
Lane was going to bring him over yesterday. I had his bed, litter box, food and toys are ready for him. And then she called.
"I can't do it. I feel awful." Blah blah blah.
My mother filled me in on Lucky's story and how Lane got him. She had a little girl puppy months ago. She was named Lucy. Lane picked her out and she waited until Lucy was old enough and then the great day came when Lucy came home. On the fifth day Lane got up, went to Lucy's crate to take her out for a walk to find that poor beautiful little Lucy had died during the night. Lane called her mother screaming and crying. What does one do in that situation? Me? I would scream and cry and call my mom too. So she buried the tiny puppy in the backyard, marked the grave with a beautiful stone and made an angry phone call to the breeder.
Long story short, a new baby boy came to Lane. She decided to name him Lucky. And even though she is too busy and feels like she doesn't give him enough attention, she can't let him go.
I do feel for her, I really do... I hope that she can find more time for him and make him happy.
And if so, I'm happy too.
Until our day, Little Harry will have to be just a daydream, a happy memory yet to be. See you then little guy.
My parents dog Buddy will be happy to hang out at my house in the mean time.