When you wish upon a star

Of all the door mats in all the towns in all the world, she walks onto ours. It seems all of the hopes and dreams of my children have come true, if only temporarily. On Tuesday morning, the husband opened the door to find a small, shivering DOG. It was 34 degrees out. The husband, it should be noted, for all of his Clean Tendencies, is an avowed Dog Lover. We're officially big dog people, but when a small brown chihuahua is shivering on your doorstep, you let the poor girl in. Your children will be beside themselves with glee, narrating her every move, including, after about 20 minutes, "She is poo-pooing---one, two, three, four, FIVE BIG poo-poo's, Mommy!!" at which point Mommy, who is in theory a dog lover too, will, in practice, decide that dealing with any more poo in a day will officially push her over the brink and into the madness, and will put the dog out into the now sunny backyard. And make a sign that reads, "DOG FOUND" and place it prominently in the front yard. The children, in the meantime, will be out it the backyard saying things like:

Harper: "Now I am your OWNER Sasha. I will take you for walks and people will have to ask my permission if they want to pet you." and

Hudson: "She's so tyoot! I yuv her! She's so tyoot! "I want to HOLD her! I yuv her!"

So, it's been two days and no one has called, though some neighbors have offered to give her a permanent home. An offer which, in spite of the fact that the husband has now purchased a new collar (she had a silver one with rhinestones but no tag. Because every sensible pet owner chooses rhinestones over identification), a pink leash, dog food, dog treats, a brush, and some chew toys, we WILL be taking them up on. I repeat: WE WILL BE GIVING HER TO THE NEIGHBORS.