A dog. My dog. In our apartment. Not the Army's apartment. Not snuck in, no in a hotel room, not at someone else's house. But Charlie Buckles will be coming home with me. I am so nervous, too. He's been around other dogs for over a year now and I don't know how he'll adjust. I will have to take him back out to the farm for play dates with Scooter and his terrier girlfriend. We are also beginning the service dog application process, so I will take the 6-8 months in between training Charlie Buckles to be a very obedient, loyal pup. Later on down the road (when our situation is more stable) Aaron wants a hunting dog, which will probably be a beagle. That's fine. But for now... our little brown pug/terrier/chihuahua is going to come sit at our feet and on our laps all through our second winter here, and beyond.
A DOG WILL BE IN MY HOUSE. I AM SO EXCITED.
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