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Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I love my girls
Mom took this photo of us lastnight. She was stressed about a few things and called us into her studio for a photo session. Of course we obliged. It somehow makes her feel better to pick up her camera and take pics of us—takes her mind off of other things.

Cali is bookended by my sister Betty (left) and me (right). I love my girls. I love playing with my sister Betty. We chase each other all over the house. We wrestle. We squabble. I don’t mind Betty sniping at me from time to time. Sisters and brothers do that. The best relationships squabble, move on quickly and forget it. I take anything in stride. I have the most positive outlook on things and take nothing too seriously. I love my pointer sister Cali. She looks after me and grooms me physically and emotionally. She cleans out my ears, gives me facials, and plays tug with me. She also teaches me to be strong and soft where it counts. I need them as they’ve played an integral role in creating my perfect personality. Not pictured is Cookie, the couch potato. She helps me too with life lessons. She tries to ignore me when I play with her or when I jump on her curled up on the couch. She’ll growl at me, and I’ll just prod her more, I like that hard to get thing she does. It teaches me patience and persistance, often lacking in dudes I hear. I don’t always need affection to show love. I just like attention of all kinds.

The end of this week will be a bit of a culmination of several years of watching my humans deal with things I don't fully understand. I think of it like mom mixing up our dinner with a few parts dry kibble, a few parts broth, a few parts mom's leftover steak bits. I see their life right now is made up of a few parts emotional reflection, several parts needing a change of venue, another part wanting to create new situations, and some parts just starting over. I’m not good at math or cooking or even analogies, so I don’t know how that makes up a good bowl of food. And I haven’t seen how their situation affects us much right now, but I hear it in mom’s voice that something is brewing. She voices her feelings to me. I feel her squeeze me extra tight when she holds me. We’ve watched mom and dad bring all of these ingredients I mentioned to the table, yet they always seem so stoic on the outside. But on the inside, we never know (and neither do most other people) how they deal with all those human things.

I know that mom plays the biggest role in how I've become who I am. She’s taken care of me and shaped me all these years into being the perfect specimen that I am. And I love her for that. She’ll always be my best girl.

Miles ^..^

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is a site dedicated to the memory of a special chocolate lab whose nickname was "chocolate peanut"...and now we (2 frenchies and 2 shorthairs) carry on her spirit of grabbing life by the paws...check in on us often as we have a lot to say

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