
Look, such a cute wedding dog. These last few days, Z. has been again overtaken by the desire to find a bulldog puppy (it has been variations of this, a cliquai, which is a miniature husky, a Shiba Inu, which is some sort of Japanese dog). It certainly runs stronger than the desire to do anything to further the wedding! He keeps saying that he doesn't want our kids to grow up afraid and allergic to dogs. A dog for Jamesie, he says hopefully, every other day, although somehow I have no doubt who the dog would be for.
I think this is his way of coping with wedding stress. It seems like everytime we need to use a plastic bag sealer or we talk about "the parental guestlist", he tells me about his having uncovered a fraud breeder or a new litter in some far-flung place that we can go to play with puppies.
This is the same man, by the way, who, growing tired of girl's names and boy's names, to say nothing of middle names, announced to me one day that he was going to name all the kids, henceforth, after himself. So, he continued, thinking aloud, they'll be Ziggy, Twiggy and Miggy.
My future family will have the world's stupidest Christmas card. It will say, love from Iggy, Ziggy, Twiggy and Miggy. (One of my best friends from the US wrote to say, if their names were Zachary, Tyler and Michaela, it would not be such bad nicknames- ah, good heart)
Z's response was to say reproachfully that if I felt left out, they could call me Wiggy!