Ever since Mike and I spent his birthday two years ago at a bed and breakfast I’ve wanted a corgi. Let me explain. At this bed and breakfast the owner had the sweetest dog (who just so happened to be a corgi) named Molly. I fell in love. I even tried to have her sleep with us (Mike was not on board with that idea).
Clearly owning a dog in LA is a challenge. It just seems VERY unfair to have a dog trapped in your small condo/apartment all day long only to take a few walks on the teeny bit of grass alongside the road. And maybe, if they’re lucky, a trip to the local dog park. With that being said, smaller dogs seem to do okay in these circumstances (and corgis are pretty little!).
We were going for a walk a week ago and there he was- the cutest dog of all time! I screamed and rushed over to him, gushing to the owner and petting the furry guy.
“What’s his name!?”
It was what we needed to finally convince Mike that when the time comes for a dog it should a) be a corgi and b) be named Mr. Pickles. While we aren’t ready for a dog just yet (especially with a wedding and honeymoon this year) Gilligan said he’s not opposed to a canine brother.
Waiting for Mr. Pickles, someday.