He’s a chow chow.
Even his breed name is cute.
In the words of Agnes from Despicable Me, “It’s so fluffy, I’m gonna die.”
My kids are smitten, and, I must admit, so am I.
Even though I am anti-any-more-pets-at-our-house, he is cute enough to tempt even me.
But then I remember he’s not going to stay little, cute and fluffy forever.
Over time, in what seems like just a blink, he’s going to get bigger, hairier and stinkier and start to beg for his own cell phone and use of the car, then he’ll say sarcastic things under his breath when you say “No!” for the millionth time!
Okay, I’m not puppy hungry anymore.