After my dad chose Waldo, we had to wait seven long weeks until he could come home with us. During that time we visited every pet supply store within a 100-mile radius and bought:

• 3 variously sized crates with pillows
• 3 beds (bedroom, living room, warehouse)
• 50 chew toys
• 50 plush toys
• Cartloads and cartloads of other pet products marketed to gay men who are under the misapprehension that their dog will appreciate beautiful things when all he desires is to play with, then eat a dead rodent.

Finally we drove to my parents' home to pick him up. Jack and I stole quietly into the bedroom where he was curled up in his crate sleeping, I lifted him out, held him to my chest and thought, generously, "I could let Jack hold Waldo but he'd probably like to help my mom with the dishes instead." I didn't know a dog steals your heart like an old worn-out slipper he won't give back.