El Gordo

Well peeps. It's been a sad week in the Burke house. Our beloved chihuahua Gordy is no longer with us.

You can imagine the reaction of our emotionally charged five year old. And her mother. And her father. We were hysterical. And then there's Cam Cam. Who keeps telling us that Gordy is at PaPa's house. I want to hold on to the two-year-old response because it's so pure and unassuming. Not jaded like the rest of us humans get.

The dog could seriously be a pain in the batookus but now that he's gone, I feel very sad. This morning I went to let him out and it took a good 10 seconds before I realized that there was nothing to let out.

Death is a funny thing, right peeps? Yes, Gordy was just a dog so we aren't grieving his loss like we would a human. But he was a dog that was part of our family for seven years, as long as either of my kids remember. We will miss him. And we are sad for him. He was a gift from my mother so that is a connection that no future dog could ever replace. So we are still grieving.

We took him on our road trip to Denver so when the Houdini like dog escaped, he wasn't familiar with the area and wandered out on to a busy street. His death was instant with no pain but there were some moments of sad "what ifs" which of course I felt the most. I should have arranged for him to kenneled or taken care of but I didn't and I can't go back. We try to teach our kids the importance of instant forgiveness and if we can't forgive ourselves instantly, then we can't expect the same of them.

So our puppy is gone. We will recover. Obviously. But it might take a minute.

"A really companionable and indispensable dog is an accident of nature. You can't get it by breeding for it, and you can't buy it with money. It just happens along." - E B White

I miss you!

Hey my blogger peeps! I miss you. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.

Now that I'm a professional writer (aka an unpaid intern for a magazine on which the primary demographic is male) I write all the time. And it's so cleansing.

But this, of course, is still my favorite outlet. I had to let you know that I turned in my first cover story this week. So exciting. It's a feature about a luxurious product that mainly appeals to men.

So naturally my introduction included a reference to The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I mean they are the definition of luxury, right?

My horrified husband made me remove it. He said he wouldn't want to read a magazine where their primary readership not only understood but APPRECIATED such a mention of the above listed show.

WTH.

Of course then I was pissed that I let him read it and plant the seed of self doubt. I mean RHOBH define luxury. I know that, you know that. Apparently a typical man does not know that.

I was tempted to stay true to myself and leave it but alas I could not. I was hoping that my editor would tell me that my intro didn't really make sense so I would have a reason to send the original in. But he didn't. And now the world will never see my beautifully thought out introduction of how I learned everything I need to know to educate the consumer on this wonderful product by watching too much TV.

The point of this story is that I feel that every person should have a partner that talks them back off the ledge. What would I do without mine?

Oh and I just accidentally stapled my finger. So maybe I need a partner that wants to teach me how to use office supplies correctly.