In memoriam

Our dear loving dog Foxy passed peacefully away this morning. She was almost 12 years old, 6 of those spent bringing joy to our lives. We'll forever hold the good memories of her playing with Phil and of her wonderful doggy smile. I adopted her, but she adopted Phil as her person. I'll never forget when I went to meet her she ignored her family and jumped up on me. She looked deep into my eyes and I swear she said, "Well, when are we going home?" And that was that. I had a dog. I just can't help but be relieved that I didn't have to make the decision to put her to sleep. She was able to live with dignity and without to much pain to the very end.

Matthew and I had a pretty normal day. Matthew added to the bruises on his face. He now has one on his forehead where he wasn't paying attention, tripped over his dad's foot and crashed into shelves at the store. Monday he didn't pay attention, tripped over my foot and crashed into the baby gate at my parents, which left a vertical bruise on the check. Then today he decided climb into his highchair, so he could yell more effectively at me that I was making supper way to slow. This time something went wrong and crashed, leaving what I can only imagine will be another bruise again on the cheek. I would like to point out it's all on the left hand side. Boys will be boys and he has no fear. It's not funny, and a little distressing to me, but I had to laugh today. My son collects bruises like other boys collect baseball cards. I think I need to buy him a football helmet. His Grandma Sharon told me the sooner I learn "Boys are an accident looking for a place to happen" the better I'll feel. She's probably right!