Joy has accepted Maya and Lucy. She lies on the floor next to them, scrolling through YouTube videos. She knows that the dogs will not take the phone away. In fact, she knows that Dad won’t take the phone away because she’s 18 inches away from the dogs.
Joy is a very accepting person. She accepts the new house, the new yard, the new dogs, the new neighbors (who are having really bad luck with flat tires). They LOVE that I know how to change a tire. I’ve changed more flat tires over the past two weeks than I’ve changed over the past ten years. But the neighbors are super nice. They sent us yummy banana bread after the first flat tire. They have young children too.
So Joy is very accepting. I think she would accept us adopting a new dog, or even a llama. Maybe a polar bear.
Joy likes the dogs. But her high chair is no longer high enough for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Now she likes to eat while sitting on the bar stools.
Our landlord stopped by to pick up some tax-related mail that somehow did not get forwarded to his new address. He did not alert us that he was stopping by. He rang the doorbell.
“AAARF! WOOOOF! BARRRK!”
I tried to open the front door. Bad idea. I took the mail outside through the garage.
“Hi!” I said. “Nice to meet you!”
“The dogs? Actually very nice dogs. We’re dog sitting. You get used to them after two days. Three max.”
I hand him the mail.
“Very nice to meet you,” he said.