My Pups.

I'm sure you've already heard,

but

since I've been home, jobless and pre-mission - I've become primary canine-care person.  

Morning walks. 

Afternoon walks. 

Night walks.
 Weekly baths. 

Nana's got the food bowls covered so I never have to worry about those,
phew.

I love these pups. 

 I can't imagine two years without their wagging tales, 

pitter-pattering footsteps, 

their excited faces when we come home, 

and all those kisses. 

It's a going to be a sad, sad goodbye.

Baby Bentley.

He's our little alien survivor.
You don't believe me.

 

Alien.
He was so sick when we got him,
but after weeks of going to work with mom and breathing treatments,
his health improved.
He gets so excited to see you that instead of wagging his little nub of a tail,
his whole booty shakes.
Bentley baby.

McGraw.
Big paw McGraw.
Goofy,
clueless,
always in the way.
If he could talk, he'd have Napoleon Dynamite's voice.
"But my lips hurt real bad!"

And now,
the moment you've all been waiting for.
Chesney.
Sweet,
Intelligent,
Well-trained,
Beautiful,
the list goes on and on.

This is my girl.
No, literally Chesney is my girl.
When I was in seventh grade,
I saved up all my birthday and Christmas money,
and we went to the pound and we saved Chesney's life.
Half English Bulldog [aka Bentley] and half Catahoula Leopard Hound [a larger breed dog],
we were unsure of what she would end up transforming into.
But we couldn't have asked for a more perfect dog,
at least, I couldn't....
While everyone else sees this:

I only see this:
[the day we bought her]

Seven years.
I never think she's as old as she is.
She'll always be that little puppy who fell in the pool the first day we brought her home.

 My girl.

I love her so much. 

Hedwig to Harry is Chesney to Me. 

Recently Chez has been going through a rough patch. 

It started when I left for college. 

I'm not even kidding. 

Oh, 

I forgot to mention - she loves me just as much as I love her. 

She knows that I love her the most in the family. 

But most recently it's been really bad, 

it's like she knows I'm leaving and will be gone for a long while. 

Poor girl. 

So you can imagine how heartbroken I was 

when my parents told me the news I had put off thinking about. 

"Max, there's a good chance Chesney's not going to be here when you get back in two years." 

Sad. 

It hurts.

Chez. 

Stay positive. 

I try not to think about it much. 

My baby.

You never know. 

I love my Chesney. 

I love my pups. 

Leaving gets more difficult by the day.