My first babies.

I don’t talk a lot about my animals. Maybe it’s because they are just a constant in my life. They are there when I need them, but they also don’t need me like my kids need me. The cat is enjoying life on the outside, and the dogs are loving the recent warm-up outside. They are content to chase a ball for a little while in the evenings, or help Zac at the grill (and hope he drops something).

Still, every now and then I get hit with the realization that they won’t be around forever. The dogs will both be nine years old in October, and the cat is a feline Highlander who has been around for centuries. He could go at any time, or he could live another five years. Neither would surprise me, but I would bank on the latter. But I hate the fact that my dogs are slowing down. They are both 60+ pounds and starting to show their age. The white mouths, the slow climbs up the stairs, getting tired more quickly when we play. It really breaks my heart to think that they might not be around in a few years. That Cannon might not remember them. Heck, that Cole might not remember them, even though they are his best doggies right now. That is the sad thing about loving animals. You know they’re going to break your heart eventually. But an animal person can’t be without animals. So the cycle repeats.

Blah. I don’t know why I’m thinking all sad about my doggies. Anyway. Here’s a happy picture of them enjoying their new beds.


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