I’ve officially become a Dog Nut. I’ve capitalized the words dog and nut because it’s a title. You know those people who baby-talk to their furry friends, have pictures in their wallets of mangy mutts, and take their pets on picnics? DOG NUT. And Β I’ve become one. I’m not proud of this at all, in fact this is more of a confession than anything else.

I used to be the person who would roll their eyes when someone would cry about life without their dog. I used to be the person who couldn’t understand why dog owners would refer to their pet like a member of the family. I used to be sane. Now? Let’s just say I drank the Koolaid.

If you think this was my idea, you’re wrong. I was completely against it. Against all it! The house that smells like canine, ain’t mine, was more along my thought process until Ricci wiggled his way into my house… and heart. In a matter of three days we went from dog-sitting to dog-owning. He’s the missing piece to our family and he has been the best thing in bringing our blended home closer together.

He’s a full-bred Dachshund with honey-colored fur and weighs about five pounds [yes, I’m announcing his arrival like he was a child]. But don’t you roll your eyes and shake your head just yet. Though I live in Orange County I WILL NOT be carrying him in my purse… but excuse me if I wanna cuddle wiff my widdle cutie patootie and talk baby-talk. Like I said, I becoming a Dog Nut.

And to give you a glimpse at how cuddly my new friend is, here’s a random picture from my phone. Yes, my phone. Because what Dog Nut doesn’t carry a picture of their dog on their phone? πŸ˜‰

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