You guys, I did it.  I survived four days and three nights in my big, new house ALL BY MYSELF.  Well, Murphy was there, but otherwise I was ALL BY MYSELF.

Allan was in New Mexico on business, enjoying spring-like temperatures and being a brat.

I was home in 15-20 degree below average Raleigh, ALL BY MYSELF.

I was especially nervous about my predicament for two reasons.  One, this house is more than double the square footage of the townhouse.  What does that have to do with anything?  Well, there are twice as many square feet in which the knife-wielding serial rapist can hide.

Two, we don’t have an alarm.  Yet.  In the townhouse, we had an alarm system.  When set, if someone opened a door or a window, ear-destroying noises would spring from various corners of the house.  And most likely, the serial rapist would run in the other direction.

But we don’t have that at the new house.  I want to get it, I think we’re going to get it, but we don’t have it.

So I improvised.

It was me and the dog and the wind chimes against the world.  And we won!

And last night, I slept.  Screw romance (no pun intended), but when Allan gets home from a long trip, I get into bed as quickly as possible and go to sleeeeeeep.  Sweet, sweet sleep.  I do this after I smother him with kisses, by the way.

Other than for sleep reasons, I’m thrilled Allan’s home.  I missed him.  A lot.  He’s my favorite.




Me: Buddy, you have to learn to resist temptation.  You have to be able to walk away.  You can’t always get what you want because sometimes what you want isn’t good for you, it could hurt you.  I know it’s hard – we all have temptations – but you can’t give into them.  So, please don’t do that again, ok?  No more eating out of the garbage.

Murphy: <blink, blink>


Well, hello Internet.

How goes it?

It’s Monday.  Monday fun day.  Or not.

Nah, Mondays are fine.  They generally go by quickly.  I have my weekly lunch with coworkers, then I have my weekly staff meeting with my other coworkers, then by the time I finish hearing what everyone did over the weekend, it’s time to go home.

Time to go home to my insane-o dog.  My God, does he hate Mondays.

They’re not fun days for him.  Not at all, not even close.

When I get home, he goes nuts.  He shakes and wiggles with such ferocity, you’d think the earth would spin out of its axis.  And he licks any part of me his tongue will reach.  My dog, he’s a kisser by nature.  But on Mondays, it’s kind of out of control.  It’s NON STOP KISSING.

And he has bad breath.  It smells of fish though he doesn’t actually eat fish.  Figure that one out for me, will ya?

I think he has so much trouble with Mondays because we’re home all weekend.  For two days, he has company and love and attention.  He loves attention.  LOVES. IT.  And then Monday rolls around and POOF it’s all gone.  No more company, no more love and certainly no more attention.  It’s really hard for him and it kind of breaks my heart.  So of all the days of the week, I make sure I stay put on Monday nights.  Sometimes Allan goes climbing without me, sometimes he’ll run an errand, but most of the time he stays home with me and The Moo Dog.

We’re trying to be good, responsible parents to him because really, he’s a fantastic dog.  He deserves to have us home with him during his time of need.



Today, Friday, November 18, I am grateful for Murphy.

My dog brings me more joy than I could ever articulate. He makes me smile against my will, has taught me what it means to unconditionally love someone (my love for him, his love for me) and has made me feel like I’m part of a family. He has brought my husband out of his shell and forced him to learn to show affection. My dog teaches me patience, he reminds me to live life in the present and with an open mind, he has taught me about responsibility and what it means to put someone else above yourself. My dog kept my head above water when I was starting to sink into depression, and my life is better, every single day, because of him.

Thanks, Murphy!