The One that Got Away

Tonight, I had to leave Brandtson in the extra bedroom alone. Without a bed or any cushion on the hardwood floor. Bad mama? There seems to be no solution for his 'axanities,' they get worse and worse. Crates are pretty much destroyed.... I come home to them unwelded, with Brandtson out of them, the house torn up, and blood spatter all over the walls and floors near the crate. It's not a good situation. So, the extra room was to be his new 'safe' area when I'm gone. Nothing to chew on and a bed. Turns out being destructive is more important than comfort... Two beds, two days. I was expecting to come home tonight (I was later than I anticipated) to the door frame being clawed into bits.

HE WAS A GOOD BOY!!!!

Mazzy had been allowed to stay out of the room on her own, as she is generally trustworthy. Apparently, reveling in her freedom, she got into their food ($60 for 30lb!!!) and ate herself retarded.... bc I walked in the door to a poo-tastic scent. And she was luxuriously sprawled on the couch, stretching when I came in, like "Oh, glad you're home... I got you something..."

Stupid is as Stupid Does.

And more than anything, coming home to that scenario, looking at my facebook picture, reading THIS tribute to a faithful companion, I miss my best girl. I wish I had more time with her and I hope that her goodness and 'easiness' didn't push her to the background too often. I hope she knew I loved her. And I hope that C.S. Lewis is right.... I hope I get to see her again. I miss you Buff.