Well, it’s finally happened:  pending some signatures and initials from folks at The Bull Terrier Rescue Mission (at the time of this writing; they will likely be immortalized in digital ink by the time you read these words), I have officially adopted Murphy.

It’s been quite an adventure since I picked her up at the Sam’s Club in Goldsboro, North Carolina on 22 July 2021.  Since then, she’s been all over the I-20 Corridor in South Carolina, and all the way to Athens, Georgia.  She’s spent a great deal of time sleeping on couches—those on which she is allowed, and those from which she is forbidden—and she seems to win fans wherever she goes.

Indeed, she’s already become a popular figure here in Lamar.  Neighborhood kids love Murphy, and Murphy loves them.  We’ve taken some nice walks now that the weather has cooled down, and kids will stop playing to come up and pet her.

My adult neighbors love her, too.  My Star Wars neighbor takes her out a couple of times a day while I am at work, and he enjoys relaying her humorous behavior to me.  Murphy is a great lover of rolling around in the grass, which she does frequently after slowly—and I do mean slowly—getting up from her daytime naps.

As I’m writing this post (from the sofa), she is going to town on some gigantic knee bone dog treat my girlfriend accidentally left here.  It’s the first time since getting home from work that she’s given me some peace, as she’s been dying to go outside literally every fifteen minutes.  That’s even after a long walk around the neighborhood, during which both of us ran for some short stretches (very short—she’s old, and I’m fat, so we’re not sprinting for long).  Like my girlfriend, Murphy has intuited that when I am at my computer, I am not paying attention to her, so I relocated to the couch in the hopes that she might lounge up here with my while I write.

Naturally, like most women, as soon as I gave her what she wanted, she ignored me.  Yeesh!

Regardless, it’s wonderful that it’s finally official, and that she’s mine.  Of course, that means I’ve got to take on the vet bills and such, too, but she seems to be in much better shape after some early vet visits and two months of affection and junk food at my house.  She’s taking another trip to the groomer this weekend (while I proctor the SAT), so she’ll grow even more spoiled.

Now that’s officially my dog, I’ll actually write fewer Bull Terrier Tuesday posts.  Barring major updates, I won’t subject readers to these excessively self-indulgent, cringe-inducing posts about my dog too frequently.

But don’t worry, Murphy fans—you’ll still get the important updates:  vet visits, canine adventures, health crises, etc.  The day I have her taxidermied and put on display in my den will be a heartbreakingly momentous occasion.

Just kidding about that last part.

Well, Murphy has left her bone behind and is staring at me expectantly.  Time to snuggle up for a bit before bed.

Read more about The Bull Terrier Rescue Mission, and consider making them a donation.