Friday, November 27, 2009

Chase

Thanksgiving. I love it. You just can't beat the food.

This year, I realized I'm going to miss my dog so stinking much. That's weird, right? When we move, he's not going with us. He is my dog, and my mom wouldn't care at all if we took him, but my dad would be heartbroken and I can't do that to him. Even if that means I have to leave Chase here :(

We've had many dogs in the past. A bichon, a golden, a pomeranian, and my father has a minischnauzer (who is awesome as well, but not up to par with Chase). The bichon disappeared from our yard one day (there are suspicions of the neighbors down the street here), our golden died, and the pomeranian was more like a foster situation and now lives on a farm with another pomeranian making baby pomeranians. And we have Chase: our shiba, our rescue.

But both sides of my family go out of town for thanksgiving, and since I always have to work it's just me and Chase.

Chase, who doesn't bark (well, almost never anyway).


Chase, who hates the lake and water and can't swim but will sport a lifejacket anyway.


Chase, who will let the babies (and only the babies) play with his tail.


Chase, who still tries to run through 15 inches of snow.


Chase, who wears a seatbelt in the car because he gets so excited that he can't sit still.


Chase, who doesn't understand why I take so many dang pictures of him.


Chase. Who I can't help but stinking love more than I think is healthy for a person to love a pet.


I'm going to miss him. Even though we're planning on getting a dog of "ours," it's just not the same.

It's not Chase.

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