It was chilly today, and honestly? I hate it.

 

Emma made this for her students. School starts back on Monday. I can't wait to amaze the kids with my cuteness.

It was chilly today, and honestly? I hate it. I had a blanket over me (the soft blue one, obviously), and Emma was beside me, tapping away at her journal like she does most mornings. These moments, before the world rushes in, are sacred. I don't understand everything she writes, but I can feel it—the way her heart settles when the words come.

Yesterday? A bit of a weird one. She was off. Her energy was wonky—kind of like when you eat grass and regret it immediately. Mr. She stayed close to home, which I appreciated, even if she looked pale and uncomfortable. But by the end of the day, after a few trips to "the bathroom," I avoided her. If I get too close to the doorway, I end up in the tub. How inelegant.

She didn’t leave the house much—just one trip to somewhere called Walgreens, which smells like floor cleaner and distant snacks. The rest of the time, she was in the yard, doing things I call “dig-scratch-grow.” Apparently, she planted bulbs. (I am forbidden from digging them up. Unfair.)

And today? We’re off to an 80th birthday party for Mr. Leal. I liked him back when he was our neighbor—especially when he dropped food. I’ll be polite, but if there’s cake… all bets are off.

Also, let’s get something clear: I like visiting other dogs, but there is nothing—nothing—like being back on my own turf. I know every crack in the sidewalk, every rustle in the bush, and every breeze that moves through our backyard. This is where I belong. Where we both do.

She’s planting things that want to live. I feel that. I’m doing it too, in my own way. Rooting. Growing. Guarding.

More tomorrow—unless the squirrels finally make their move.

Stay warm and stay wild,
Peanut