Two Days Without Emma (a tragedy)

On Sunday Emma spent the day cleaning at a speed that even startled me. Apparently, there’s a word for that: scurryfunge. It means panic-cleaning before company arrives. (I do my own version—spinning in circles and barking at  threats.)

Carla and Katelyn arrived. I approved of them.

Emma swiftly removed them from my company and took them to Luciana’s for dinner (again: no doggy bag),

but after that, we all went for a walk.

I showed them the good pee spots, the best sniff zones, and the prime views. They were—of course—impressed with my park.  I allowed Carla to hold me.   She seemed to be the more responsible of the two. I can't do with being... dropped.

Let me tell you—Monday was chaos.

Emma dropped me off  at Becky and Brutus' house and  then took off for work and a funeral. She said it was beautiful—

Meanwhile, I was holding down the fort at Becky’s.

I lounged in the sunshine, keeping one eye on the street from my usual post near the window. Brutus was doing his typical Brutus thing—napping with one ear up in case snacks happened.

Then Brutus and I decided it was time for a perimeter check.

And BOOM—out of nowhere—a dog, not of this household, launched over the fence like a rogue gymnast.

I don’t know if it was adrenaline, mischief, or sheer audacity, but there it was: an uninvited guest in our yard.

Brutus, bless him, trotted over all friendly-like, sniffing and chatting as if we were hosting a dog park mixer.

“Wanna sniff some sticks?” You know—Brutus things.

But not me.

Oh, no.

I didn’t move from Becky’s side. That’s not fear, folks—that’s loyalty.

I was on duty. You don’t leave your post when the queen is in the room. Becky is royalty.

Sure, the intruder didn’t look hostile, but my job isn’t to wait and see.

My job is to protect, observe, and, if needed, unleash the full bark-and-side-eye combo.

Becky kept telling me I was a “good boy,” which—obviously—I already knew.

But still, the affirmation was nice. Being the rock in a swirl of chaos? It takes poise. Discipline.

And an excellent sense of when to keep your tail still.

Brutus? He wagged goodbye like he’d just hosted brunch.

Me? I resumed my post by Becky with a sigh and a head held high.

Just another Monday for Peanut the Protector.

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Tuesday: Reunited and It Feels… Necessary

Emma dropped me at Becky’s in the morning—again. Then she went off to some hotel for a “back-to-school meeting.”

(Back to school? We just got OUT of school. Humans are wild.)

Emma’s doing A LOT right now. But through it all, I’m her anchor.

Her constant.Her soft, blanket-loving, California-dreaming dog. She says she’s overwhelmed—but she still shows up. She says she’s tired—but she still walks me. I’m proud of her.Even if she forgets to bring me tamales from Mr. Leal’s party.

Peanut 🐾