A new resident to the Kampground! No, not mine. It will be awhile before I can entertain thoughts of new puppies in my home.
This is a mixed breed ........... Dachshund mixed with a Pit Bull. She is adorable now, but you have to wonder what she will look like as a full grown dog. You will note that one ear is shorter than the other. Her litter mates bit it off!! Makes her all the more endearing.
A gentle rain is falling and matches my mood. So many reminders of my sadness lurk everywhere and lay in wait to get me when I least expect it. I have washed all of Oscar's towels and blankets. Soon there will be no scent of my old boy. Going through Fall decorations, I discovered Oscar's Halloween costume. I picked it up and sniffed it. I was disappointed that it smelled like all the other stuff stored in that bin.
He hated his costume. It was a hot dog bun, with swirls of ketchup and mustard on the opening of the bun. Oscar was the hot dog. He tried to get the costume off, but failed, so he walked around with a resigned look on his face that Halloween. We had a dog costume contest that year. I convinced HeWho has no more control over me than Oscar did, to wear deep red sweats with "Heinz" boldly scripted across the shirt front. I may have led him to believe I would be wearing mustard yellow sweats with "French's" on my shirt. Alas, yellow is not my color ........
This morning before making the bed, I showered after tossing my nightgown on the bed. My nightgown is black with tiny white doxies and dog bones adorning the fabric. I entered the closet without bothering to turn the light on in my bedroom. I grabbed a shirt and as my head popped through I looked at me bed. In the dim light from the closet, I could have sworn my nightgown was my Oscar. Like he was just waiting for me to lift him into my arms for our morning ritual. Just my nightgown, though.
Instead of 4 dog treats, I only need 3 and it hurts my heart when I can't give one to Oscar. I had to crumble Oscar's treat for him in his half toothless state. I still find crumbling a fourth treat in my hand before I remember.