Rosie and the Times

We do everything we can to raise our children in a traditional family environment. It's not easy. There really aren't any textbooks on how to do it, so we study old television shows like Leave it to Beaver, Father Knows Best, My Three Sons, and Family Affair as models (although we do have our concerns about My Three Son's Uncle Charley--he was a sailor, you know--and Family Affairs Mr French--the name's bad enough, but why did he sleep in the same room as Uncle Bill?).

Anyway, we use these old shows as models for what a traditional family should be. One of the things we learned was that the dog should bring you the paper, so we've been training Rosie to do just that.

It was tough at first--we read the NY Times because we liked their pre-war coverage, and that's a heavy paper for a puppy to fetch--but, she eventually got the hang of it and became a darn good delivery dog.

That is, until this morning. Every time she puts her mouth on the Times, she pukes and loses all bladder and bowel control. And it wasn't just a one time thing. She tried to fetch it five times with the same results. It's like the Times has become a festering wad of unpalatable putridity.