Celeste wants a puppy. Not a dog, of course, that Dad will need to feed and walk and educate as a third child for more than a decade. Just a furry little puppy. She picked up on this notion just after becoming a vegetarian under the influence of her friend, Ana Dickson. While animal protein is slowly finding it way back on her plate, the puppy idea is in full swing. Her marketing for this proposal has grown to an extraordinary level of sophistication.

Basic:

1) "I want a puppy." Repeat this 50 times daily.
2) "Why can't I have a puppy?" Helps to highlight weaknesses in Dad's argument.
3) "If you loved me you would buy me a puppy." The basic premise of all relationships.
4) "Every other child in class has a puppy." True.
5) "If I had a puppy I would do all the work to take care of it." False. A bold faced lie.
6) "I'll give up my hamster and my bunny to have a puppy." And who feeds them every day already?

Advanced:

1) "What kind of puppy did you have as a boy Dad?" Brilliant.
2) "Which puppy would you choose?" A book of Dogs, highlighting their many virtues.
3) "Can you show me some websites on puppies on the Internet?" Father-daughter time?
4) "Mom likes this kind of puppy." Evoking the all powerful SHE WHO MUST BE OBEYED.

This Morning:

"If I had cancer, and was in the hospital, do you think I would get a puppy?"

I like dogs. I simply don't like feeding, bathing, housing, controlling, financing, apologizing-for, disciplining, medicating, traveling with and without, worrying about, and ultimately burying dogs.

ACROCINUS

Oh, well. There is no hope in the struggle with destiny...