I’ve been a bit stumped lately about what to write about. What is important to me? What can I say? It isn’t until I call over my pup and we have a cuddle that it hits me.
I’ve written about my kid. I’ve written about my husband. I’ve written about myself. Now I am going to write about my dog. Yes, you heard me correctly.
My dog. My fist born. My sidekick.
I know what some of you are thinking. You’re thinking how silly.
So, go ahead. Laugh if you will. Shrug you shoulders. Crinkle your face. Wave your hand at me. It’s all good. Because I don’t care. Because I can handle the jokes. I can handle people thinking I’m a weirdo because I call my dog my first-born.