Ever since we got married, all of our animals have been females: cats, dogs, chickens, all of them girls.  Martha Elizabeth, Sherod’s daughter, lived with us for a time, and of course, Luz Maria did too.  The Mallowman has always been outnumbered.  Yesterday that began to change when we realized that a hen was a rooster.  Today, we drove way far out in the country, past Marion Junction, to look at some little labradoodle puppies.  Now, this is no fancy breeder, though the Lab mama is a pretty girl (we didn’t get to meet the dad, though, obviously, he is a standard poodle).  We aren’t talking pedigree or special food or anything like that–just farm dogs who made some babies.

We came home with one.  His name is Mo.  And that makes three.  Three bandido amigos:  Sherod, Mo, and Bruce, the rooster. Between them, they should be able to cause a goodly amount of trouble.  Miss Daisy rode out with us and when I got back in the car with a little bundle in my arms, she was not amused.  In fact, she, who always sits in the front seat, half-way across my lap, growled and went to the back and would not look at me.  I finally put our new baby down on the floor and only then, would she deign to come back and visit with me.

After we got home, they hung out a bit and Daisy seems a little more curious and willing to play.  I tell her she has a boy toy now. She is awfully clingy and needy right now, though.  That new baby thing, I tell you, it’s hard…

I miss sweet, gentle Boo who was such a fine old lady.  I am thankful that she graced our lives for 13 years.  After 3 years, Daisy continues to be a constant source of amusement and delight with her expressive ears.  And now, there is room in our hearts and in our home for one Mo!