My dog is gone.
We took him to a new home. Hopefully he will be much happier than he was here. The whole scenario has been a mess since we got him two years ago. For some reason, Bean just didn't get along with the hubby (or anyone else). He was constantly hiding from Chance and running away and eating diapers and peeing on the floor and getting in the trash can and jumping on the baby's head and mauling our guests. And then there was that time when he ate an entire bottle of ibuprofen and had to get his stomach pumped so he wouldn't die.
That was one of many incidents.
Sooo ... yeah, he was a bad dog. He will be much happier with my grandparents. He will get plenty of attention and they actually have time to discipline him and there are no babies for him to jump on. It's PERFECT.
I miss him. But I know this is for the best. And I'm gonna be a grown up about it. Really.
And the rest of the universe is extremely happy and my house is finally peaceful again. That's what really matters.
While I'm getting over this (oh, the melodrama), I'm spending plenty of time hugging and squeezing Baby Munchkin.
They grow up so fast.
P.S. Blogging is good therapy. Even if everyone else thinks I'm just a sappy hormonal idiot.
Which I am.
But that is beside the point.