18 hours

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In just 18 hours, we’ll be driving home with you. I’m sure you’ll try to rip out my hair, chew off my earrings, pee on my jeans, chew the leather in Daddy’s truck, and generally be a whining, crying, barking little sack of ass.  I just wanted to show you, that I already have everything ready:

Here’s your new puppy bag. It’s got a water bowl and food bowl. A leash and collar. Poop bags, toys and some slobber towels.

That puppy bag cost your father a small fortune, so for the love of Pete don’t freaking chew on it, or he’ll kill me. The same goes for the couch. I just bought that shit 3 weeks ago.  Here’s your special area in the living room. Your crate is actually in the bedroom, but I don’t really want to show you that yet. Mainly because my room looks like a shithole, and I don’t need you to be judging it, considering the fact that you still happily wallow in the poop from your siblings. So there’s that…

2 polar bears, some chew things, some super hard toilet paper roll looking things, and a giggle bone that I’ve already tortured Alea with.

This is the last night this house will feel so empty. Your dad and I sat and cuddled earlier, talking about how even though our relationship with each other was so rockstar, we just both felt that we needed you to complete our little family. Alea and Hunter need someone else to boss around, and someone to pay attention to, besides your father and I. And our debit card.  Anyway, I know you’re probably chewing Bentley’s ears right now, but I want you to know that I’m sitting here, missing you and being really, really excited.

I love you sweet girl, and I’ll see you soon,

Love always,


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