Saturday, March 22, 2014

Sir Duncan Moose Milam of Biggs


Your father made a comment a few nights ago that made me think - "Duncan is such an awesome dog...".  Which - he is! That's nothing new.  But I couldn't help but think over and over again how I hope you know how truly awesome he is.  See, Duncan is 4.5 years old now, and I'm not sure at what age you truly appreciate a pet. (Not to be Debbie Downer but boxers usually only live until the age of 10 - I hope the measures we have taken to keep Duncan healthy allow him to be with us longer than that. But also being realistic).  So I wanted to share a brief background on the awesomeness that is your puppy, Duncan.

Before we ever got Duncan, I had a love for boxers.  Your great grandparents (Grammie and pop pop) had bred boxers from before I was born until I was probably 12 or so.  So oftentimes when I wernt to their house, there would be a litter of puppies.  And boxer litters tend to be big - 8 to 10 puppies per litter.  I would love playing with them and getting into the middle of the whelping box at night (that's how I came to fall in love with my first boxer - Maxine.  I quietly got into the box one night while they were all sleeping and max woke up, walked over to me, got in my lap and fell back asleep. (D'AWWWWw).  There are even pictures of me as an infant laying next to a boxer (boxers are notoriously good with kids), but needless to say I've always been around boxers. 

So when mommy and daddy finally decided to get a dog, I of course leaned towards boxer.  Your father had only had a pug his whole life (pooby), but wanting a larger dog for security was leaning towards lab.  I don't recall how we came to this but we compromised deciding that I picked the breed, but daddy picked the pup.  Maybe it had to do with Grammie and pop pop offering to buy us our first dog (if it was a boxer).  

We decided to start looking for a dog, the same day we learned of Duncan.  Your father and I were at Grammie and pop pops house when they got a call from a neighbor who was commenting how their children just bought a boxer puppy and that there was one other male left in the litter.  We weren't actively looking for a dog yet, but over hearing the conversation- we asked for the breeders information so we could find out more about this puppy.  We quickly (like within hours) got in touch with Kim and Ken Thorpe and received an email of the only male left in their litter.  This was one of a few pictures that I first saw (of and when I fell in love with) the dog they named Moose.


Seriously...

How cute is he?! I am a firm believer that boxers are the cutest puppies out there.  But we fell in love and quickly decided that we were ready for a dog.  We arranged for a meeting a week or two after seeing this first picture.  We drove up to a little town in Pennsylvania and met the Thorpe family (Ken & Kim). We walked in and Ken brought Duncan (then called Moose) upstairs to meet us. Due to the long drive, your father immediately went to use the restroom. I sat in the living room and played with a toy rope with Duncan and knew immediately he was our dog. Your father came out of the bathroom and said "we are taking him home, aren't we?" I smiled in confirmation.  And he told Ken only after a few minutes "well, I'm not going to waste any more of your time - we want the dog." We ran to the ATM and (eventually) got the cash out, came back, filled out some papers and were on our way. Daddy drove while I held Duncan in the passenger seat. Duncan fell asleep with his head in daddy's hand... Daddy's boy from the start.

Let's see ... What else can I tell you about Duncan... 

He LoVES peanut butter. And watermelon. But especially peanut butter... We keep our close to empty jars for him to lick clean :

He wears an orange hoodie sweatshirt when it's cold out. His fur is short so e can get cold easily.  It's a hoodie because that's what we love to wear, and orange because that's our favorite color.  I had to buy him an extra large so it would fit his chest but then hem it so he wouldn't pee on it.. We have better pictures somewhere of it- but this is the best one on my phone:

Poor dog...

What else... There is a lazy boy recliner in our living room that has become known as Duncan's chair . It's next to a window that overlooks the street and driveway so he can watch over the neighborhood and see when someone comes home. 

His birthday is July 18- which was your original due date. We joke about how we couldn't have two kids with the same birthday. 

Most importantly, you should know that Duncan looooves you. He is always so interested in you and likes to lay near where you are- make sure you're safe. Although he licks you more than id like- he is extremely good with you.





Well this post got a little photo happy. So I'm going to close. Duncan is an awesome awesome dog - and I hope you get many years of him in your life.

Monday, March 17, 2014

The First Time He Said "I love you"

I was thinking this morning about the very first time your father told me that he loved  me.  How special and profound of a moment that was in our lives.  I'm sure that this will be a story I tell you over and over until you're sick of it - but just in case something was to happen to me, I wanted you to know it.

We were laying in bed in our old apartment (well it was my apartment... Your father just kept staying the night more and more and showing up with stuff until I asked if he wanted to start paying rent).  I was laying with my head on his chest and his left arm around my body.  We were supposed to be trying to fall asleep, but we'd rather spend the time talking to each other.  Anyways, we were at a break in the conversation and we were both quiet.  I assumed he was getting ready to fall asleep.  Until I could hear his heart start to race and his breathing deepen.  I could tell he was stressed and felt like he was about to say something important (either an 'I love you' or 'let's break up'). After some more silence, your father quietly stated "I love you". ::heart melt:: I smiled (which he couldn't see since it was dark, and told him that I loved him. It was a feeling that I too knew to be true, but hasn't vervalized yet. With a deep sigh of relief from your father, he then repeated "I love you,  I love you, I love you, I love you..." and gave me a squeeze. It just felt so good to finally get out that it deemed repeating. 

So, I love you... I love you... I love you... I love you.

And Happy First Saint Patricks day!