Stanley

 

It is time for me to come clean. The guilt. The lies. The anxiety. They all end here. I have a confession: on June 9, 2012, Andrew and I drove to Denver, Colorado and picked up our first dog, Stanley. We then secretly kept Stanley in our "NO DOGS ALLOWED" apartment for roughly 2 months until we moved to San Francisco.

Let me begin with the back story.

Two years ago for my birthday Andrew got me a book on Westies. We read it cover to cover and then, during church we got a little bored and started passing notes on what we should name our future dog. Killer, Snowball, Meatball, Fuzzball, Peanut... we were joking around and then I wrote down Stanley and the heavens parted, angels descended, and the name was confirmed.

Well once we had the name we started looking for dog friendly apartments in Provo. They don't exist. So we waited. A year later Andrew finished school, he was home all day studying for the CPA which gave him time to train our dream dog, so we started looking again.

Then we found Stanley, bought him, and smuggled him in and out of our apartment for 2 months to take him on twice daily walks and vet visits. Luckily Stanley does not bark (seriously) so it was really easy to get him in and out of the apartment with the help of my Puma weekend bag.

Now before you feel like this is animal cruelty, let me just state that I always threw treats in there for him and to this day if I put that bag on the floor Stanley runs and jumps in. I think he thinks it is a magic transport machine that takes him to fun places. We also may have used a microwave box sometimes too just to mix it up.

Yes, we are skilled in the art of deception.

And now he lives happily ever after (and fully approved by our landlord) in our studio apartment.

The end.