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Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Sometimes...

Most evenings I take Sam for a walk.
My Sam
Sometimes we make it around a block, and sometimes all we do is sit on the front lawn like the two old friends we are.

Sometimes I remind him of all the adventures we've had, and sometimes we just sit quietly and watch the neighbors come home, my hand on his back and his paw on my knee.

Sometimes we bring Monty along, or Harlow, but sometimes, I think the walks he likes best right now are the one where it is just the two of us.
From the archives
Sometimes he does his business on our walks, something he has never done before.  He seems embarrassed by it, and I hug him after I clean it up and tell him sometimes it happens.

Sometimes we pass people and I ask them if they like dogs.  If they say yes, I ask them if they would mind petting Sam - because he loves people.  ...and sometimes they do.

We keep hoping we will have many days left with him, but sometimes it hits me hard that one day all too soon I'll have to take my first walk without him.
Which way, Mom?

Sometimes I don't take my sunglasses off, even though it is dark outside, because I don't want him to see me crying.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

The Imprisoned Puppy

Just ask Harlow.  We are the meanest puppy owners on the face of the planet.  Not only did we get her fixed when she wasn't broken, but now we expect her to rest.  For 14 days.  That's like 98 days in dog years.  Harlow's handling like any teenager who has been grounded. 

She's sighing....
 She's pouting....
 She's giving us her best "Please-let-me-do-something-fun" face...
 ...and since we won't, she doubles her efforts to look dejected...
 ...and unloved...
 
...and tries to find ways to bend the rules...
We are on day 5 - 9 more to go.  Sigh...