Buddies.

So I am home, in the living room, posted up on my parent's red couch (that I have dibs on when...you know. Morbid? Maybe.) and stretched out on the floor is my little baby Bisby, with her Elephant stuffed animal right next to her, ready to grab at a moment's notice should I show any kind of interest in moving. I love seeing my family when I come home (five out of seven [yes, I'm including you Lauren-obviii] this trip! cha-ching! Hi Lauren! I hope you guys have fun in Maine! What do you guys what for Christmas? Get back to me.) but I cannot lie, I might love seeing the doggies more. I know I sound silly, but I can talk to my family any time. And I do. Constantly. It's actually a pretty bad habit, the amount of time I spend on the phone with my family. But the doggies, well I can't call them up and see how they're doing. Though I imagine those conversations would be AWESOME, it's not exactly do-able.

So now all I want is a buddy of my own. To be a snuggly fun buddy. But I travel. and I work. and I can't have a doggy in my apartment. So until I find someone who I live with and we own the puppy together, and/or I get a job thats a bit more permanent in one place, I have to wait. and settle for my puppies at home when I visit.