We have a dog now. He was a terrible decision made with the best of intentions during the summer of 2015. He arrived right before J and J flew in from Miami. He was a rescue and damaged (join the club) and has his own brand of neurotic that is both largely unhelpful and occasionally endearing. Truly loves him with all of her heart. She has a best friend named Kendall, but he is close second. The three big boys take turns walking him twice a day. They often forget to feed him. He spends a lot of time sleeping under our bed or trying to sneak onto the couch. Every time we opened the front door for the first six months he would try to run away. He's very fast and has zero street sense. He also showed unpredictable aggression with other dogs and walking him was an ever loving nightmare. He dragged me down the sidewalk one morning while Paul was out of town (he was traveling a ton for work that summer and fall) during the first few weeks and I laughed while crying as the leash dug into my hands and people watched me from their cars.
He has since calmed down.
He came named. Sort of. When the woman dropped him off she asked us what we would name him and she seemed surprised that we would keep whatever was on the paperwork. "Cuts down on the inter-family negotiation." And, I mean, what better name for a plot hound/shepherd/pit mutt than after a Yugoslavian Revolutionary?
Thank you, so MUCH, for your warm welcome. Three posts in and the typos are rampant. I have not been writing on the side or working on secret projects or engaged in brand development. I have just been here, struggling to sort out this life and what I have to contribute to it. I'm circling around something that I haven't quite nailed down. I'll let you know. Thank you for being here.