She is a good baby girl. That is to say, she has a wonderful puppy temperament, even if it means getting up at 4:30 am. She is patient and sweet with the girls, and needs just the right amount of attention. Lottie has plenty of personality and is quite vocal, emitting baby chewbacca sounds that make me giggle. Her fur is soft and downy and her tongue is like velvet.
And she has giant paws. Gulp. Lottie isn't going to be little for that long.
But, OH, that FACE. I melt.
(and she just peed on the floor. damn.)
July is a struggle for me. It always will be. I take it day by day. And most days, hour by hour. I know that others have forgotten...or they don't realize that the anticipation of that nightmare's anniversary has been eating away at me for weeks already. Or how it effects everyday life.
There is a scorching pain in my chest that climbs into my throat and threatens to creep out of my eyes in a flood of tears pretty much every day. It takes a lot of energy and breathing to keep ahead of it.