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Remember when I mentioned my parents were getting a dog? Well, they did, and they are going on three weeks with their new family member. They have a nine-monthold Boston terrier named Redmond, which my mom has inexplicably nicknamed Tricky-Woo. Two years ago, my mom attended a volleyball tournament with me in Minot and fell in love with Jennifer Busse’s puppy, Emmy. My mom decided that she and my dad needed a puppy just like Emmy. Despite my warnings of the stress and expense of a puppy, my mom insisted it was just the thing she and my dad needed. She went on to make a down payment, and then I managed to talk her out of it. Fast forward two years and Redmond, aka Tricky-Woo, has entered the picture. I was given no warning and no opportunity to play mean cop again. Okay, dog lovers, I can practically hear you gasping in disgust and shock at my attitude, but hear me out. I was raised with no animals in the house. We had plenty of animals outside, but no animals were ever allowed inside. My sister snuck her favorite mangy momma barn cat inside one time, and it promptly pooped on her bedroom carpet. A few years later, my brother brought a new puppy home from the fair and let him sleep in his bed. The next morning, my brother woke up itchy and covered in fleas, and that was that. No more animals inside, ever. Now, my 75-year-old mom and my 81-year-old dad are the proud parents of an inside fur baby for the first time, ever. I’m sure you can see where this is going.