I really don’t have a good title for this.

36 hours into the New Year and so far, so good. There’s so much going on for 2016, and I can’t wait for it to be set in stone to tell you!

For a few days now we’ve been fighting the holiday ‘hangover’  so to speak. Visitors left, and we’re in this weird lull before normal activities resume. I’m not looking forward to our daughter going back to school… this past summer we thought we were going to homeschool, before checking in with a last ditch effort that obviously panned out. I tried not to let it show, but I was devastated. I was really looking forward to homeschooling. The time that the kids are here is awesome, and we’re always doing something. Anyway, tomayto, tomahto… maybe in another life.

The past few days have been interesting. About a month ago I took our most-senior dog into the vet with what I thought was a limping issue. We have tons of ‘stuff’ in the backyard – thousands of pecan shells, random branches, etc., so we thought something was embedded in her paw. I walked into the vet with what I believed to be a healthy dog, and walked out with a dog with very aggressive bone cancer. We all know that dogs don’t last forever, but when it’s YOUR family dog, it becomes unfair. The vet didn’t expect her to last until Christmas, but we are so happy that she did. She got extra love from visiting family, and was petted and showered with affection every waking moment. Two nights ago, things took an even more downhill slide, requiring sedatives just for her to be comfortably sleeping. Husband made the painstaking decision that it was time. Timing is a very funny thing – because we have had a long weekend with her, we decided to take her out today; to the river, feeding her cheeseburgers, and letting her wander until she needed help.


Shelby, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good dog mom. I came into your life, and a whirlwind followed. We moved you from house to house, you took thousands of miles of car rides, introduced babies and even a cat (!) – which you took all into stride. You were maternal, patient, and so very loving. You were the epitome of the phrase: ‘stop and smell the roses.’ You never let your brother win tug of war, which was hilarious to watch as he thrashed his head on all fours versus your laying down, barely-grasping-with-your-teeth approach. You never met a patch of grass you didn’t like, you LOVED herding the chickens, and Hershey Bar wrappers had absolutely zero chance. I’m sorry I didn’t feed you more wholesome food, cuddle you more at night or that I complained about your shedding. I should have made more of an effort to understand that I came into your life. Thank you so much for being a part of mine. I will absolutely miss hearing your tail thud against the floor as I walk up to the house. I’ll miss your drive by kisses. But most of all, I’ll miss the way your daddy looks at you. We love you, Shellbell.

I really don’t have a good title for this.

2 thoughts on “I really don’t have a good title for this.

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