We got Franny one year ago today. She was our replacement pup after we had to put our beloved Maddie-dog to sleep last summer (by the way, pregnant mamas do not cope well with the death of their pets no matter how disgusting the breath of said pets might smell or how many times they might poop in a 24 hour period). We made it a whole week without a dog and then drove to Beatrice, NE to pick up Francy-pants. She had it made, I tell ya. Nesting mama ready to try out her mothering skills and an affection-loving husband to provide all the physical touch a pup could ask for.
However, 5 short months later, Francis was in for a shock when she was carted off to Uncle Paulie and Aunt Lala's house for a week only to return to find a new, rather small, rather smelly, rather noisy creature occupying her home and her people's laps.
(photo credit: Jenae Weinbrenner of Imijfoto)
Needless to say, since Baby Girl's arrival, Franny has been a bit neglected. I mean, we still feed her and everything, it's just that she's been removed from her honored position of "child" to the lowly stature of "pet."
I can't pretend like my feelings for her didn't change. Nowadays, when it comes to Franny, I have a limited set of emotions. I often feel annoyed (like when she won't stop licking my feet) or angry (like when she barks at No One at the door when Lila is asleep) or grossed out (like when she catches and kills bunnies and gets blood all over herself) or confused (like when out of nowhere she gets up from her spot on the living room rug, walks into the bedroom, stands there, then comes back and sits back down) or aggravated (like when she throws her bone around and it bangs loudly on the hardwoods when Lila is sleeping). But sometimes I'm playing with Baby Girl on the rug, and I look over and Franny is lying there calmly minding her own business, not licking or barking or killing or anything, and I forget all that other stuff and think, "What a good dog."
So, Happy One Year Anniversary, Nubby. You're a good dog.