“They’re just dogs.”

Earlier tonight, I was baffled as to where the puppies were; but I was not worried. I realized that I just did not remember because my brain likes to play these lil’ games with my head! I am able to recall walking into our living room, at my boyfriend, HUD’s, request and trying to learn how to work our new television (per HUD’s instructions).  I learned how to work our new television to my lover’s satisfaction

I did some other things prior to that (I don’t know what exactly…I remember that I put towels into the dryer, and ironed HUD’s work clothes for several weeks). I was wondering where the babies were; but allowed myself to be content with the fact that Whiskey was probably in the puppy bed in the dining room (he stays wherever I may be) and Coco was under a blanket in the living room with HUD (she stays wherever he may be).

About an hour passed; as I stayed in the kitchen, doing…something…HUD told me that he was going to brush his teeth and get into bed. We hugged & kissed each other, said the “I love you’s” and then I walked over to the puppy bed in the kitchen to get Whiskey (remember, I think Coco is in the living room). I was a bit shocked when I did not see his rear end hanging out over the bed and the top half of his body covered with a blanket.

So, I went to the living room, positive that he was laying with his sister on the couch or love seat. I walked to the love seat, expecting to be met with Coco’s thumping tail as it wagged when she saw me; she was not there, nor was Whiskey. My heart began pounding rapidly in my chest as I walked to the back door and looked out on the back deck (I don’t know why…we do not leave them outside alone at night mainly because our home is on a busy highway and during the day, we keep a gate up, so they can’t get out in the yard [we haven’t put up a fence, yet] and even then I keep a close watch on them)—ALL 3 gates were in the house.

I did not see any light or a gate on the back deck; confused, I opened the back door, and called for them anyway. My heart was pounding crazily by now as I looked over to the side of our house, near the pile that HUD burns garbage and where Whiskey and Coco go to potty/play when he takes them outside; I did not sense any movement like I would if they had heard me open the back door/heard me call for them.

I walked back inside, aiming to go out onto the front porch…but as I headed that direction, the door was both closed and locked. I panicked and thought to myself “They can’t be out there, because HUD would not lock them out and I know that I did not!” (side note: When I let them out on our front porch, I leave the front door open, so I will not ‘forget’ to retrieve them.)

I turned from the door, and stood there in disbelief/shock because I thought they had been ran over (hey…the mind wanders to crazy places when you are frightened) then my senses came to me, and I realized that I had put Whiskey and Coco in our bedroom only a couple of hours earlier!

I  rushed past the bathroom door where HUD was brushing his teeth, and I briskly walked to our bedroom door. When I opened it; I was ecstatic to see both Mr. Whiskey and Princess Coco both sitting on our bed, “smiling” up at me (I swear I know when they are ‘smiling’…yes, I am one of “those” dog people), and they were both wagging their tails.

I did not go into the bedroom; instead I stood outside our entrance with the door arbitrarily open. I felt relief that I had not lost the baby’s…I also felt guilt/shame for forgetting where they were.

HUD walked out of the bathroom and was going to bed, when he caught me in the strange pose, holding open the door while gazing at the baby’s…I was crying—crying because the babies were safe; crying because I had forgotten where I left them; crying because my heart was much lighter; crying because I GENUINELY love those dogs.

HUD does not understand my pure love for these pups, and accuses me of loving the dogs more than I love him (I’m going to explain that I love them the same that I love him; but it’s a different way. One is no greater than the other. He should understand; he told me something similar when I accused him of not loving Mr. Whiskey). He let out a disgusted sigh, and pushed through the door of our bedroom. I immediately followed and picked up the baby’s to transport them to their puppy bed in the kitchen.

Please don’t misunderstand, and think I’m accusing HUD of not loving them;

I am merely saying that he was not the one to raise them; he did not have an alarm clock set to wake up every 2-3 hours to potty train them; he did not finish college with a 3.79 GPA while being the victim of a Traumatic Brain Injury; he did not finish the last year of college and earn a Bachelor’s Degree at an online University with the babies’ sitting in his lap, and sleeping. He also did not depend on their company to keep from going crazy…no that was NOT HUD…but me. I am the person who did all of these things.

I have never understood people’s obsession with a DOG…until now. I love the two of them as if they were my children…yes; they are my “fur babies.” HUD does not go that far…but he does love them. He has told me so, and I see it with the little things he does and the way he speaks to them.


When my Mom suggested that I take one of the puppies that Nana’s dog had when they were born 3 (4?) years ago; I was not driving, nor was I was able to get out of the house and socialize like “normal” people can. I was focusing on my studies…and even if it is better (as in I don’t get confused as easily); I am still only able to focus on ONE thing at a time.

I’ve always been a “cat person” and only put up with dogs. Mom convinced me to get a dog when my Nana’s Daschund was having a litter (her ‘stud’ is a long-haired Chihuahua). My Mom was working all of the time, and was worried about me getting lonely because I was alone the majority of the day and also the night. I regretfully agreed to get a dog.

When I met Whiskey…he had my heart immediately. Then Coco; she had no home; yet she was oh-so-loving as she nuzzled her nose in the curve of my neck; that I could not leave her alone. I called Mom and said: “Mom, out of all five puppies: four of them have homes. There is this beautiful little black and tan female that no one has claimed, yet.

Mom exasperatingly retorted: “Brandy; w e can’t have two dogs in an apartment! We are not really supposed to have ONE.” I don’t remember anything else because Cocoa was in my arms, sweetly nuzzling my neck. I protested and said something akin to: “But, Mom…you will love her–” And proceeded to tell Mom how sweetly Cocoa was resting on my shoulder. Mom let our an audible sigh, and said, “We’ll see…” I hung up the telephone, and hugged the sweet, fuzzy bundle, and said aloud to her, “YAY! Cocoa; you have a home!” Because every child knows that “We’ll see,” is only a delayed ‘yes’ most times. 

 Nana originally named her and spelled the name like a bean because as a newborn pup; she was one of 3 with the “normal” coloring for a Daschund. Cocoa was able to be deciphered because she had a slight brown tint to her coat according to my Nana.

 I changed the spelling of her name because Whiskey is brown and tan…and I did not want it to be that much more confusing when I introduced the pups to other people. Mom named my son, as she always had done with my pets, because the first thing she said upon viewing the color of his coat was; “He is the color of Jack Daniel’s Whiskey!”  

So, I was prepared for Mom to call him ‘Jack;’ seconds before she said: “That’s his name…” She was holding the pup, who was about 6 weeks old, in one hand; she looked at him as she brought his furry little face close to her’s, as she completed her thought, and said; ‘Whiskey’.”

I talked my Mom into allowing me to have two dogs by saying that “Whiskey is my dog and Coco is your dog.” I have them both now that I no longer reside with my mother. Because I needed Whiskey to live with me (he is my emotional therapy dog–as is Coco) and he could not be separated from Coco after having her by his side his entire life.

Ever since Mom and I brought the pups to the apartment; I’ve had them on a strict routine. They had designated times in which they would eat…and sleep.

Tonight, Mr. Whiskey and Princess Coco followed me into our bedroom, when I was putting away laundry and promptly got up on our bed. It was around 10:30 PM–their bed time is 9:00 PM (no matter what HUD says); they realized that it was time for them to be in bed, which is why they both promptly walked up the doggy steps and lay down in the “Mommy bed.” I covered them up, gave them both kisses on their heads (which they returned by licking my face), said ‘good night’ and closed the door.
Moments after walking out of our bedroom, my confusion began; I could not remember where they were! I did not share this with HUD, but I began to question my ability to care for an infant, much less raise a human child, even if we’ve decided to remain childless.  

Now, as I am writing this, BOTH of the babies are asleep in the puppy bed in the dining room…and Princess Coco is snoring loudly as she always does. She was “talking” in her sleep earlier…Mr. Whiskey snores lightly MOST of the time; he will snore very lightly and every now and again, he will “talk.” They are safe, and content. Therefore, I am happy.
(look closely at the photo below and Coco [black dog at the top right] is sticking out her tongue!)
I’ve tried to get the snoring on video…but each time I record when one or both of them is SNORING loudly…they get quiet, and the Princess looks up at me like, “I’m trying to sleep! Get the light out of my eyes!” I then try it with no light…and she still wakes and Whiskey gets quiet.

Whiskey and Coco 2 10.07.15

ASIDE: These babies have never had a true “home.” They lived at my Nana and Papa’s for a little over a month, initially. Then they moved to my Moms apartment with us, and stayed a few months. They lived most of their “baby years” in a townhouse with Mom and me–residence #3. (The following is probably not in order; but I’m lucky if I correctly recall what happened a couple of days ago) They lived back at my grandparents with me; #4, they lived in a crappy apartment with my Mom and me; they lived with me and my *cough, cough* boyfriend, (I’m wishing I could forget his presence in my baby’s lives) in a city over two hours away; they lived with Mom for over 3 months last year when HUD and I were in England. Mom’s apartment was their 6-7th home! And finally, they live with my “un-official” fiancè and me in the house in which he grew up, and he now lovingly shares with me…and our pups. Residence #6 will be their final home with HUD and me

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