Close your eyes and picture the smiling, fluffy bundle of mirth that is a golden retriever. Now picture 400 golden retrievers galloping across grassy fields to a long dock jutting into quiet lake and each dog launching him or herself into the water with gusto.
Two days after we adopted Boomer, or she adopted us, my hair fell out. I stared at my reflection (and a crazy-looking woman looked back) for a couple of moments, and then I said aloud, "F*ck it. Go downstairs and cuddle your puppy."