Howdy, awesome readers!
Back story …
Some of you may know my dogs, Dakota and Jed. They’ve been with me for about eight years. More than just my dogs, they are my guardians, my confidants, my best friends. I talk to them. I tell them my problems. They’ve moved to the country with me. They’ve moved back to suburbia with me. They’ve seen me through a break-up. They’ve watched me sit at my laptop for hours, knowing instinctively when to ignore me and when to remind me that it’s time to revisit the land of real life.
I nursed Dakota back to health after she was attacked by a bigger dog when she was just three months old. (I had to feed her through a tube in her neck. It was disgusting.) And Jed is like a mama’s boy. He’s content when I’m home, follows me everywhere (and by everywhere, I mean EVERYWHERE), and he’s depressed when I’m not home.
Unfortunately, one of my teenagers suffers from a mild form of allergies to dogs (although I’ve noticed that his allergies are worse when there are dishes in the sink) and I’ve had to accept the fact that maybe two dogs is too much for his allergies.
Lucky for me, I found a home for one of them: Dakota. She was actually easy to find a home for because she’s smarter than most humans. Lucky for all of us, a neighbor on my mother’s street wanted her, which means I still get to see her.
So now it’s just Jed and I and I feel grateful that I at least get to keep one of my fur babies because my son’s allergies seem to be better with just the one dog.
My dad has an expression: “When you have a dog, you have a dog. When you have two dogs, you have half a dog.”
Since both of my dogs are big, I have to agree. When we moved back to suburbia, I had to take up the fine sport of walking my dogs on a leash. This is much easier to do with only one dog than it is with two big dogs that both want to be in the lead.
Jed and I enjoy our walks. Especially early in the morning. And if you know me in real life, you know that I’m not a fashionista. I’m a jeans and cowboy boots kinda girl. And sometimes I’m a sweat pants and cowboy boots kinda girl.
My teenagers think I look ridiculous but I don’t care.
Although I will say this:
I miss Dakota. Dakota never laughed at the way I dress.
Does anyone want a teenager?
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