BFF

I've been on a Facebook ban here in the last few weeks (with the exception of stalking purposes as needed) and have become OBSESSED with Instagram. I've basically gone from one addiction to another and instead of reading everybody's every waking moment on FB, now I get to see them through pics. Plus, I limit who I follow and who follows me so nobody's feelings get hurt when I delete them, which I was doing daily on FB. ANYWAY! One of my favorite authors posted a screen shot of her blog that had over 1 million views. She was flipping out, as she should have. Then I logged into my blog to write and I have reached over 8,000 views!!!! Is 8,000 anywhere near the ballpark of 1 million? Heck no. I'm so far away from the ballpark, I'm sitting in a restaurant across the street taking a sipasomething watching the ballpark on TV. Yet, I about spit out my imaginary drink when I saw my numbers tonight because I'm tickled pink. Are 7,000 of those views from me when I check to make sure everything is written appropriately? Probably. Do I care? Not even in the slightest. Y'all are freakin' fantastic and I love that you are interested in me enough to read my nonsense. And I'm even talking to the ones who just accidentally clicked on this; hey, every click counts!

 

This post is dedicated to something that owns nearly half my heart. Mike has a chunk, my family has a chunk, Los Cocos' Pollo con Crema has a chunk, but a huge portion of that particular organ is designated to my child, my best friend, my confidant: my baby dog, Rudolph (Rudy) Giuliani Peebles. Tomorrow is his third birthday and he is deserving of an entire blog about him, but he'll just have to settle for an article tonight. Some might say I probably have an emotional attachment that probably needs to be psycho-analyzed. A therapist would probably conclude that since I'm (human) childless, I've got a furry friend to replace that longing. However, if you know me, you know that I've been in love with this K9 since his breeder turned the corner with him in her palm.

First night

 

I've always been a dog person and my first true doggy love relationship was with my mama's Yorkie, Sparky. We got Sparky when I was in 9th grade and he, unfortunately, saw me awkwardly make it through adolescence. When I painfully went through the worst (at the time) situation of my life, that poor dog would come into my room at night, curl up beside me on the bed and let me cry into his fur whenever I needed him to. I probably should've listened to the dog's advice in the first place when he attacked my dirty bastard of a cheating boyfriend every time he came to my house. If your dog don't like 'em, you need to ditch 'em. That's philosophy I learned at a young age and stand firmly beside it to this day, thanks to Sparky.

 

As for Rudy, he's seen me at my best and my worst. There's not many things he can't do that an actual child can.

 

He begs for food.

 

 

 

He's nosey.

He wears clothes.

 

 

He laughs at jokes.

He goes on vacation.



 

 

He sleeps.

 

 

He models for 330 of the 430 pictures on my phone's camera roll, apparently.

 

He tries to emulate his mommy when she exercises.

 

He watches TV.

He gets in your personal space.

 

 

If this dog could go with me to work, it would only make me the happiest person on the planet because leaving every morning for eight or more hours is the hardest thing I have to do, most days. I'm convinced that God thinks I may not be able to love an actual real child as much as I do Rudy, therefore we haven't been successful in that department. I've also prayed these actual words, "God, if I can't have children, please let Rudy live forever". It's quite sad, actually.  And by that I mean, I've made fun of crazy people before but I'm a certifiable crazy dog lady at age twenty-eight. If I had extra money, you all would have gotten Panda-themed invitations to his birthday party tomorrow night where you would've been asked to wear tuxedoes (which color-coordinate with the guest of honor). In a nutshell, be thankful I don't have extra money.

 

Dogs have traits that people look for in other people all the time. Loyalty, companionship, good listeners, lets you walk around naked without making gagging noises, etc. Since I'm counting my blessings lately for the things I have, Rudy will have to be number two on the list. I can't speak highly enough of him and I certainly hope I've brought as much happiness into his little doggy life as he's brought into my little human one.