Dear Diary,
It is a beautiful and glorious morning here in the Northeast, and my Dad and I pray you and yours are happy, healthy, and safe.

Where do I even begin?
Obviously, some things have changed in recent months… me and Emma are both over 100 lbs, and we are pushing out our summer coats to make room for winter weather wear. And if my dad’s hair wasn’t white enough before, it surely is now LOL.

As many of you know, I haven’t had much access to the computer lately because my favorite human on the planet has been bogarting (I have no idea what that means, but he says y’all will get the joke) all the computer time. This has left Emma and me to entertain each other while he has been working on his big project for the last couple of months. He says he’s done with it now and Promises us that he will give us most of the rest of his undivided attention; his tone is convincing, but I’ll let you know next time how well he kept that promise.

My last entry was almost three months ago, just after Father’s Day 2024, and my sister and I have had several sleepovers during that time, one time for over a week and another more recently for 3 or 4 days; we have totally terrorized my house, the cats, and everybody that walks by when we are out in the yard. It has been simply glorious!

A couple of weeks ago, after my dad laid down new rubber flooring and a couple of oversized rugs for him to walk on and us to wrestle on. It’s a funny thing, though, about the difference in the way you humans see things and the way we giant dogs see things; you peeps see a nice new floor surface, but we cute and cuddly pups see a challenge to find out who can eat more of it first. Apparently, our contest (Emma destroyed the rug before I could finish destroying the rubber floor) did everything BUT make my dad laugh. He didn’t even giggle a little.

I ain’t gonna lie though… me and Emma laughed our tails off as he came back in the room, stopped in his tracks, and started muttering partial sentences: “What the f…? How did y…? Why in the h…? Didn’t I j… ? God d…!”

I don’t remember now which one of us it was, prolly me knowing me, but what I wanted to say to him was” spit it out, pops,” but I didn’t because he didn’t seem to be in the mood for that approach (don’t blame me… who do you think taught me how to be sassy with class?). Not for nothing, but you humans are really cute when you get mad 🙂 We didn’t get in any trouble; he didn’t even yell; he just pulled out the garbage bag, continued muttering half sentences as he picked up all the pieces and put them in the trash, and when he was done, he just looked at us and said:” crappy wood floors it is then, ladies.” And sulked his way out to the trash barrels. You Peeps are even cuter when you sulk 🙂

With all my dad’s time spent on his writing project, he still makes sure to give Emma and me plenty of fresh air and outside time. He has gathered a bunch of sticks from other places in the yard and put them on the porch so we can chew on them, make a mess, and take turns stealing them from each other. Dad watches and laughs at us over how hard we work to take away the other’s, trying to reason with us (in vane) that we should just be happy with the ones we have and leave the other one’s be. Clearly, the human I love with my whole heart doesn’t understand that what somebody else has surely must be better than what we have. I’m going to have to sit him down one of these days and explain it to him.

I had my first experience with a pond a couple of weeks ago, and as you might expect, I was completely overwhelmed. Dad and I have been working with the hose and a big bucket out in the yard this summer, but that is nothing compared to a big body of water. I was there with my boy Oberon, so big and growing up now that he’s almost the same size as me, and as I approached the shoreline and started sniffing and slapping at the water, my boy Obie barreled into me and knocked me all the way in. My dad’s people, including little Willow and Jackson, were all there as part of getting a little outdoor family time during Labor Day weekend. We had the time of our lives… once I got wet… but am I the only one who hates being thrown in the water before I’ve had the chance to get used to it?

My dad says it’s important that me and Emma stick to a consistent routine when it comes to mealtime. He mumbled something about being able to anticipate how long he has for a nap before we would have to go back outside again, but I stopped listening after he said “nap.” He had just fed us, taken us out, and brought us back in, and the three of us curled up for our noon-time, saying it was one of his favorite times of each day… something about having doctors or something that justifies taking them. I didn’t even bother trying to explain that whatever that doctor’s note thing was, it is well known to be a puppy imperative, so it is an all-around win-win.

He always sets the alarm on his phone and puts it on “airplane mode” (not sure what that means), and the three of us get busy fighting over who gets which spot on the bed and how much room me and Emma are willing to give him. When he’s finally asleep, we slide off the bed and go to our favorite spots on the floor, but when we’ve decided he’s been asleep long enough, – sometimes both of us – start licking on his face and his eyes and his nose and behind his ears( and sometimes IN them because of how funny it is to watch him flail and sputter) until he gives up and gives in and gets up.

I love doing this to him in the morning before his alarm goes off, but it took a while to calibrate my inner puppy clock. The first few times I tried this, it was 3:30 a.m., and my dad was not the least bit impressed. Because the sun is coming up later and later, I’m still a little off with my timing, but what I do now is put both of my front feet on the bed and get right in his face, tongue out, and get busy with cleaning him up until he opens his eyes, gives me a big hug and a kiss on the end of my nose, and he tells me it better not be 3:30 in the morning. I love this human… I just look at him and lick his face some more.

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