peanut butter | love lives on.

Doug started therapy in May. That was for his old-new leg. We were rocking all his exercises and moving our way towards graduation. Then we hit a roadblock known as new-new leg. While we did surgery and recovery on leg #2, therapy had to be put on hold. That meant that leg #1 lost some ground. Double ugh!

A month after his second surgery, Doug was cleared for therapy for both legs. Woooohooooooooo, take us back to Peanut Butter City where the grass is green and girls are pretty!

Doug LOVES Peanut Butter City. That is what we call therapy because they feed him peanut butter to get him to do what they want him to do.

It’s not just the peanut butter, he LOVES the ladies there too. I mean hard-core, loves them. One of them, Becky, he loves more than he loves peanut butter. Perhaps even more than he loves me. If Becky greets him at the elevator, he explodes with joy. If he’s doing an exercise and Becky walks by, he loses all ability to focus. If she disappears, he is inconsolable and flips and flops in a furry of a tantrum. Doug has no game.

He. Loves. Her.

This is ~~who he stalks~~ Becky. He’s totally holding in his gut to impress her.

I mean, I’m glad he loves someone. Despite living with him, feeding him, snuggling with him, buying him several jail cells, paying all his bills and DRIVING HIM TO PEANUT BUTTER CITY, all I get are death stares.

You’re not Becky.

I will chew this tie down and set myself free and find Peanut Butter City on my own.

Dogs have accidents. You clean up and move on. Jake is a master of escaping his diaper or the diaper fails or meatballs pop out of his butt. All of these things happen several times a day. I clean up and move on.

Despite having a 14-point clean-up process for every accident, sometimes it comes time to let rugs go. In three years, I’ve lost count of the number of rugs that Jake has ~~killed~~ ~~ruined~~ sent packing. Recently, it was one of our favorites. A high pile, thick shag carpet that was really never supposed to be ‘for Jake’ but in a pinch, I had to relocate Shaggy to an area so that Jake could move from kitchen to couch. As it turns out, Shaggy was ‘let go’ not due to accidents (although there were a few), but because Jake realized Shaggy was REALLY good at holding his peanut butter Kongs steady while he licked the good stuff out and she went from being white to being sticky and orange.

Note to all: peanut butter in a high-pile shag rug does not come out, regardless of how many cleaning products you use.

So we said goodbye. Jake was pretty upset. He spent two days sitting by her side before she finally made it to the curb.

Farewell, Shaggy. And like all the others that came before you…I’m sorry.

Why are you doing this to us?