Wyatt and Abby

I'm not sure what it says about me, that I write about my dogs, before my husband... but none the less, here they are.

That's Wyatt on the left and Abby on the right. You don't know love, until you've sat on the floor with Wyatt and had a tongue bath. And Abby's the baby -- always thinking something's out to get her -- and her only retribution comes from snatching unassuming flys, in mid-air.

Their greatest pleasures come from eating tomatoes out of the garden, a good bone to fight over (even though we have 10 bones lying around our house, and they're all the same kind of bone!), and a delightful belly rub at the end of the day. Wyatt's a sucker for the garden hose and Abby has an orange ball that she loves (heaven help us, the day we lose that ball).

It's hard to imagine life without them. Sometimes I think about what that day might be like, when we have to say goodbye to one of them, and I find myself with a lump in my throat. Kind-a like right now...