To the Dogs

Even though I grew up with cats (at times, many cats-- enough to qualify me as a cat lady, even-- except I wasn't a lady yet), I have developed a strong fondness for dogs. Big dogs, especially. And one big dog in particular:


Our part time dog, Robertina. Our current apartment building does not allow dogs (especially large, excited, always-so-happy-to-see-us ones like her), but it's OK: we get to take Robertine on a walk every single weekend, and we're loving it. She waits for us patiently until we come pick her up, she's into our new van as much as we are (points!), and she has so much fun on the walks, it would be impossible for it not to rub off on us, too.

Bounding down Lone Tree Hill!

It's a win-win-win situation for everybody involved: her owner has chronic fatigue and likes to know that her dog is taken care of while she catches up on rest, we get to explore our beautiful surroundings with our FAVOURITE DOG EVER, and of course, Robertine gets to run free, scramble over mossy rocks, chase squirrels, and hang out with her boyfriend:

Putting the moves on Marty-- I'd say 'back off, bitch!' in a horrible pun, but the truth is Robertina and I have made an agreement: she can be the girlfriend as long as I still get to be the wife. Besides, Robertine is the only one I know who loves Marty as much as I do, so I'm cool with that. We relate.