My first born is 7 today. Or at least today is the day that my vet and I picked as his possible birth day. He was thrown over the fence at the shelter, so no one really knows when he was born.

My little boy...


I freakin' love this dog as if I gave birth to him myself. I know that sounds absolutely, 'she has really lost her mind now', ridiculous to you mothers out there that grew and delivered a human baby, but this is the closest thing I have. We have become so in-tuned with one another, I know what he wants by just the way he looks at me and he is there to cuddle with me when I need it most.
Last night, he jumped on my bed as I brushed my teeth and I saw him look at my pillow. "No WAY!" came out of my mouth, he actually sighed a little and then moved to the end of the bed--far enough away where I would have room to lay down, but close enough that I could still tuck my feet under him and know that he was there.
I haven't been sleeping well lately, I'm unable to turn my mind off at night. Things just swirling, rushing thru my head--decisions to be made, bills to pay, art to be created, conversations I should have had, conversations I shouldn't have had, adventures that I'm way too chicken shit to ever do, etc... you name it, it is in my head at that exact moment I should be falling asleep. And Tyle.nol PM is shit. But Brody... he is there. He is the relaxing force in my life right now. Last night I turned my pillow to the other end of the bed and curled up with him and I finally fell asleep...

anywho, happy birthday to my Brody...