Keep the dog, lose the bitch.

Joey came home tonight and told me that her ex-boss, the one for whom we were dog-sitting this weekend, got married while he was away.

I'd met the bride several months ago and felt an instant "icky" feeling. I could tell she was haughty and self-important. And I had a sense that she was stingy/greedy.

Joey then told me that they wanted to give us her ex-boss' older dog.
I took a breathe.

I like the dog. He's cute as can be. But we have four cats already.

She told me that the bride said she has a four-year-old child and can't be bothered cleaning up after a dog that's becoming incontinent.

Grrrrr.

I would never ask any one I was involved with to get rid of their pet, no matter what it's physical condition -- unless it was obviously suffering.
If anyone ever asked me to choose between them and a pet, I would choose the pet.

I looked at Joey. If it's a choice between us or the pound, let it be us.
"Does he come with a trust fund?," I asked, pointing to the cats around us.
"That's the only way we COULD take him," Joey agreed.

"He doesn't want to get rid of the dog," she said.
"I know... but men can do some pretty stupid things sometimes...."