My boyfriend constantly denies me the desire to have a third dog.

Correction.

I can desire, whine, be illogical all I want, but he denies taking me to the shelter and getting a third dog. I can't help it. I'm so happy and satisfied...and well broke from having the girls but everytime I see someone selling or giving away a young puppy on facebook, my heart cries a little. I keep thinking, I've already gone through two puppy stages, one after another, at this point I should be a pro if I went through another one.

But it's not fair to my boyfriend who also puts time and money into our dogs. Not fair for me, for me and for the girls. I would simply not be able to give them enough attention. I already spent 2-3 hours a week trying to groom Willow, and Fred is still a young hyper puppy.

Just last week , Willow who is now 1 years old and completely house trained...well had two accidents one after the other( #2) right in the living room.

Ultimately the question is...do I really need to pick up that much crap...NO

Introductions

I'm laying on the couch with little Winifred, snuggled into the crevices that my flabby trunk of a body creates for her, thinking about how to become famous.

I figured since I can't sing ( s0me days I think I can) I'll blog. I've blogged before, but that left me cold and bitter, a relationship that was split wide open and spit on.

Basically I was in my angsty teen years, wrote a lot...of teeny things, and an uncle found it and told the rents. Good feelings when your mom's younger brother decides to yahoo search your name for fun all the way in India ( I also did not understand the concept of public and private entries then).

But that's all about me. The main focus is to explore the growing pains that are my girls, yes I choose the motherly aspect when it comes to the relationship with my two dogs. I treat them like my daughters. I console myself in my lacking of a human child by constantly mentioning to myself and others how I will never have to invest into college for them.

Anyways.

Willow is my first living thing every. I mean that as in I've had an assorted amount of pets in India, but they were...in India...and I'm not for the most part of my life. So really, I didn't do shit when it came to taking care of pets. My aunt or cousins would be stuck with work.

Lets see...living in a farm has led me to have ....a deer, 3 dogs, 2 peacocks, 2 turtles, hares, 2 goats ( one whose death still traumatizes me to this day), a parrot, a rat ( much guilt on this as well)...and possibly more...basically a pet to me then meant I claimed ownership while my grandma fed and cleaned them.

Willow is going to turn 1 years old in 2 more days. A whole year, after many unnecessary vet visits, useless arguments with the boyfriend on raising her and nearly $1,000...my little girl will be a "big" girl.

She's stubborn, spoilt, STUBBORN but in general my darling, with the kind of hair you can't keep your hands off. I have moments where I cave in and literally stuff my face into her little 6 pound body and breathhhhhhhh in those luscious locks. Even after the recent atrocious haircut I gave her ( I SAVED $70 DAMN IT) her hair is still amazing to feel. There should be a ban on how pleasurable her hair is.

Great. First entry and I write about my affair with my dog's filaments....

**That pic up there...3 am in the morning, the very first night I got her <3