Part of me wishes that I had a working camera around. The apartment building we live in is the designated "dog building" in the complex, so every time I step outside the door there's a new dog to meet and greet. There's even a person on the third floor whose miniature pinscher just had a litter of puppies.
But while we wait for the advent of a new camera, I hope you can get your puppy fix with this snap from my archives:
This is Rufus at 8 weeks old, the very night that I brought him home. (This photo, incidentally, was not taken at home, but at my former workplace, by my former coworker — that's her bichon, Scoops, sniffing Rufus' butt in the background.)
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