A year of Homer

When J and I were out walking this afternoon, I asked him if he thought that we constantly raved about Homer because he was objectively great or if we were just hopelessly, slavishly in love with our first shared dependent. Had we become those parents who are blinded to their children’s deficits? Had we lost all reason in the face of our beloved?

J said that he thought Homer was an archetypal cute dog. He leveled the evidence of random passersby who tell us how beautiful our little mutt is. He didn’t, though, start out this way. When he came into our lives one year ago—after a fortuitous rescue on the side of a road—he was bald with mange and bug bites. He was malnourished and probably dehydrated. He may have been left behind by a pack of wild dogs. He may have been turned outside by owners once they knew he was sick (this is common practice in Kentucky). Even though friends called him the ugliest puppy ever, we instantly fell for this mangy mutt.

His hair began to grow back as soon as he was treated for mange (it wasn't the contagious kind, but rather, the kind that all puppies inherit from their mothers, but that most with healthy immune systems can keep in check). The disease came back in December and so he recently completed another three-month course of medicine.

Homer's most primal love is the water. He swims every day at the creek during our runs. He also loves, loves, loves the bath. I think that we first discovered this in November. Once it gets cold, I love taking a bath each night. As it turns out, so does Homer. He first casually sauntered over and licked the water during that inaugural bath. Then he backed up, galloped, and flung himself into the warm tub with me. Now it's a real chore to keep him out of the bath (sometimes a lady likes bathing alone!).

Homie began life by sleeping in a crate. He then graduated to the blue couch (now known as Homer's couch), and then about a month ago—and without prompting—he decided that he'd prefer to sleep on the tempur-pedic with us. He mostly likes curling up between us or at my feet. We momentarily talked about breaking this habit, but really, who can resist this guy?

The best part about Homer is that he's so loving. After spending more than a decade with an aloof (albeit marvelously devoted) hound, I'm really enjoying sharing my life with a pup who just wants to be cuddled and kissed. And cuddled and kissed some more.

We're looking forward to many, many more years with this guy. Happy 1st anniversary with "your people" Homer!

USPS love

This summer has been all about small improvements around the house. I love having the time to check things off my list and I should have gotten to this one much sooner. When we moved in, we had this rusting beauty right out front: 

It stayed just like that for an entire year. I had planned to replace both the mailbox and the post. But the box itself was completely rusted to the post and the post is absurdly secured in cement. I thought about simply cutting the post off at the ground, but decided to just see what I could do with a little spray paint. The stakes and my expectations were low.

What an improvement three cans of spray paint and some new numbers (from here) made! I'm loving the clean, modern numbers and I like to think of this as my little aesthetic gift to my postal carrier who is surely assaulted each day by horrible fonts. The post still leans back a bit, but we're living with it for at least another year. Three cheers for the miracle of spray paint!