It takes 3, baby

I was gone from Thursday to Sunday, at the BFFs wedding in New Orleans. Had an amazing time, but missed home, T, and Fischer. Apparently I was missed too. I heard that Fischer was a little out of sorts, missed his momma, sulking around the house and staring at the door to the garage (where we always make our grand entrances when returning from work). “How is Fischer?” I’d ask every night on the phone. “He misses you,” T would say, “He is staring at the garage door, wondering why you aren’t coming home.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I feel bad for my furry brown buddy, but this news, the news that I was missed, visibly missed, was also really awesome. The dog is over 10 years old and, honestly, I don’t know that he’s ever really missed me when I was out of town before. So, this was pretty special.

Until this:

What’s wrong with this picture, you ask? Oh, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I’M HOME ans I TOOK THIS PICTURE. So, who is woman’s best friend pining for now, THE MAN, that’s who.

Humph.

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