The trademark Corgi sploot
I have a steadfast rule: If you don’t poop outside or wipe your own butt, you can’t stay at my house. Thanks to Cheetos, our new four-legged child has not had a poop accident inside.
We have been on the waiting list for a Corgi for nearly a year when I unexpectedly learned one of my mom’s horse show friends had a litter ready to go. And it was after finals. And it was during the Christmas holidays. And we were both off work for four weeks. The timing was perfect.
We had already decided that because we were getting one of the Queen’s dogs, he had to have a pompous British name. And because I’ll never have a son to name after my dad, the puppy would have to have Harrison somewhere in the pompousness.
On December 13, we and Sir Waldorf Harrison Maupin, barn name Harry, made the six hour drive home to New Orleans from DeBerry, Texas, in the pouring rain.
WrittenNRed 