This is my puppy. His name is Walker. He is German (in that angry unpredictable way.) He is a Yorkie. I lalalalove him! He recently had to have surgery on his eyelid. Who would have thunk that I, the farm girl carnivore, would ever spend 400 euro on a dog and then 400 more to fix his eye. Well, I did. More precisely I spent the money that my husband works hard for while I struggle to learn German. =) He loves me.
He's a hell dog and don't you forget it! He steals the bulbs off the Christmas tree. Eats shoes, socks, underwear. He's just like that. He bites. ALOT. We're working on that. He chews on my dreads when I am trying to sleep. Sigh. He is my baby. Some people get animals "as practice for children." I think that loved dogs ARE children. He needs to pee and poop. I need to clean it up when he makes mistakes. He gets in trouble and pulls me to my last nerve. (isn't that exactly what kids do?) *pause need to rescue my shoe*
When we return to the United States we will adopt another dog. ADOPT. Someone elses dog that they decided they didn't want. Or abused. Open our hearts and our home to a new friend and family member. Hopefully both furry and skin covered. Furkids and skinkids. We'll have them all. Because isn't that what life is about? Sharing and loving all that need it?
A military wife is mostly girl. But there are times, such as when her husband is away and she is mowing the lawn or fixing a youngster's bike, that she begins to suspect she is also boy. She usually comes in three sizes: petite, plump and pregnant. During the early years of her marriage it is often hard to determine which size is her normal one. She has babies all over the world and measures time in terms of places as other women do in years.
I'm a 23 year old wife and mom trying to find a place in the world. I'm my husband's mistress since he's married to the army. I love to read, cook, and eat, not necessarily in that order. I live, I laugh, I cry, and sometimes I even get it right.