With my months of anticipation finally satisfied and the long-awaited bundle of fur fast asleep in my lap, I could not have then imagined the trials to come. Yet by the time I arrived home from the breeder's with slightly scored shins and puppy urin coating my shoes, I had some idea. I supposed my mother had provided something of a warning with her constant regrain that came every time I crossed another day off my calndar: "Just make sure he stays your responsibility, not mine." But looking back with that once tiny menace now a snoring beast asleep at my feet, I feel a hint of what must be parental satisfaction.