Boss of the Backyard & Guardian of the Garden

I’m small, but don’t let that fool you—I run this place.

We woke up to another gorgeous morning, which means one thing: it’s swim day. I personally do not swim (I'm not ridiculous). Chewy, when he lived here before his disappearance to become ice cream, loved to swim in the White River every morning in the summer. He would swim in the water while Emma would stand in the water, and I would pull as hard as I could on my leash away from the water so they would not fall in and get washed away. I was an anchor. We no longer have to do that, thank goodness. We also would meet the same water rat every morning. I don't know what the proper name is for him, but that is what he was to me: a giant water rat with a thick tail.

Emma came home from the pool yesterday, telling me all about how the water was apparently “lovely,” though she had to endure the nonstop yapping of a giant, tattoo-covered woman holding court in the shallow end. She does this every day. Every. Day. I don’t know if it's always the same poor lady she's trapping.

After the swim (and, thank dog, a shower), we headed to the park. My job? Look good. Be admired. Keep Emma safe. I also assisted with a bit of trash pickup—because, yes, I multitask. Emma picked it up; I sniffed it before disposal. As expected, the kids couldn’t get enough of me. There is some sort of summer camp at the park regularly, and the park is swarming with kids. I'm a local celebrity. You should see how their faces light up when they see me. It's exhausting being this cute, but someone has to do it.

Then it was time for gardening and crafting. Emma has a craft fair coming up with Tanya and Judy. There was talk of designing a booth and sending pictures to some “organizers” so they can post it online. I think it’s a weird flex, but I support the cause. Also, I provide moral support by being adorable and guarding supplies.

While she crafted, she chatted with Eric—her human friend with a soft heart and a good dog named Benny.

Later, Emma went to garden at Connie’s. There was a ton of poison ivy, and she doesn't mess with that stuff. She got a bit on her and had to wash up in Connie’s kitchen with dish soap (classy). But she finished the job because she’s tough like me.

After a long shower (again with the showers—humans are obsessed), Joel called. He gave us the grand tour of his new room via FaceTime and talked a lot about some human named Meereh. We also talked about going away together to Kentucky. I hope I am staying with Becky and Brutus.

Now she’s back in the garden, and I’m guarding her again. A GIANT dog walked by earlier, and I made it very clear he was not welcome near my yard. I barked so loud it probably echoed into another zip code. Emma  said I think I’m huge. I say—I am huge. On the inside.

Just now, a chipmunk tried to make eye contact. I gave him the look. He bolted.

Emma's happy today. I can feel it. And me? I’m right here—fierce, loyal, and looking fabulous.

– Peanut 🐾