The growling, fur cover, dog I love (or Wildfire)

Two years. Wildfire officially became my dog two years ago today. He was my first dog, and truly  he is the dog that I judge all dogs by. He sets the bar, and for being a dachshund mini poodle mix he sets the bar extremely high.

He is so handsome.

Far and away this little canine is braver most dogs out there. He came from a bad breeder, and a very bad dog-mother. He had a rough first month. Then he met me.

River fun in Gatlinburg.

Vacation. He is so great in the car.

Unfortunately under my care he has survived an attack by a much bigger boxer mix. And I will never know what he encountered the day of the break in. I know he was at the very least fended off with a Swiffer. I hope he bit. And I still thank the force in the universe that reminded me to take the key out of the key to key deadbolt in the back door. That action alone kept him in the house. And probably kept him in my life.
If the police ever catch the person(s) that did break in, I only want to ask them one thing. What did they do to my Wildfire?

But he has also been to may restaurants and Ted Drewes. He goes to the parks, and loves the local farmers market. He is a great shopping companion. He loves picnics, farms and snow. He is amazing in the car. He was an angel for the 8 hour rides on vacation. Vacation with him was great, this little boy was so excited and so adventurous. I am so excited to bring him out west this year. But his favorite road trip will always be his Oma and Papa Wright's house. They have a big back yard, and a deck and a big dining room table to hide under.

Nap under Oma's table.

Exploring he favorite back yard.

Visiting Great Grandma Wright

He is the guard dog. He taught Wichita very well. After all our hard work training  he still has rough edges and probably always will. But he also has let go and shown his soft cuddly side. He is sweet and he is so smart. And he has given me smiles every day for the last two years. He is my little brave boy. I am crazy about him. And I look forward to so many more great years with him.

Sharing his bed with his little sister Wichita (when she was actually little.)

He is clearly the one taking the job seriously.

Happy boy.

He always picks the biggest stick to chew on.

One month after the dog attack. Fur on his neck was growing back.

He loves this shirt. He think it makes him look like his Papa Wright. (It does.)

Him with the sweet Ripley.

My landshark.

His sweet raincoat.

It's strange hearing no noise under the bed. (or, we lost our cat today.)

Cats are so different than dogs. Cats do not rely on humans for survival. They can hunt. They truly let us pet them. They have a independent quality to their souls. 

In this way, we feel special when a cat welcomes us into their life. The subtle way a cat gives love is a special thing. I've been lucky enough to have two special cats in my care.

In four months; they are both gone.

Ripley (the siamese) left us in January and today we lost Punk Kitty (the grey calico.)

Cats are subtle animals. But there is a hole here. The quiet movements are missing. They aged. They haven't done the weird cat running or playing in a long time. And they both weren't able to jump into the bed the last week they were around. 

I'll miss the head butts for petting, the purring, the surprise of a cat in a window, or bathtub. 

They are great cats. I will always miss them.

Tired. (or how to recover from a snow day.)

Wildfire decided to test the new futon chair. Seems to pass his rigorous inspection. 

Pillows are difficult.