Annie gets weird ideas in her head. A couple of weeks ago she started asking me for a “practice dog.” In Annie-Speak, practice means pretend. So when she asked me for a practice dog I responded, “What on earth do you need a pretend dog for? You have a real dog.” Then my friend Lissa came over this past weekend, and she coincidentally brought Annie this:
That’s Archie. Do not make the mistake of asking Annabel if Archie is a boy or a girl because she will murder you with her eyes. Archie is girl dog. As you can see, Archie looks a lot like another dog we know and love:
Rigby is lukewarm on Archie (Rigby is lukewarm on most things). Annabel loooooves both of her dogs.
The problem with Archie is that she looks exactly like Rigby from above:
To add to this, Annie leaves Archie all over the place, which is an accident waiting to happen. Archie has been in my path more times than I can count. I always see her out of my peripheral vision, and then I usually jump or contort my body to make sure I don’t step on what I think is Rigby. I have several Archie-related injuries from avoiding the stuffed dog. One of these days I’ll remember that Rigby gets out of the way; Archie does not.
The other night, I woke up to feed James. I left Mike and Rigby in bed, and when I walked into the hallway, this greeted me:
One of my Archie-related injuries is a heart attack, because OMG TOY INEXPLICABLY ALONE IN A DARK HALLWAY AFTER MIDNIGHT. I might never recover.