It's official - this dog has consumed my life.
For the last three nights, the sleep I have gotten (usually interrupted circa 4 AM by Bea repositioning herself) has involved dreams about Bea. She is the only thing I talk about with people, the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep. I remember when my wife held that position.
This is exactly why Sara and I may not have kids. We are already losing ourselves in this dog. If we had kids, we would no longer exist as people; we would just be parents and dog owners. There's a piece of me that's not done living yet - though it seems to be distracted by dreams about dogs.
Oh, and a guy tried to pick me up yesterday based on him having 4 dachshund-mixes. Even if I were single and even if I were gay, he had 4 yippie dogs. That's awful.
"Hey, wanna come back to my place and clean up after my animals? Wait, where are you going?"
At least he wasn't in the dream.
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