So, they left me.

They totally left me.

Never mind the fact that The Boy and I have a special bond, and maybe, just maybe, he’d like to have me at his boot camp graduation more than he’d like to have a couple weepy parents that won’t leave him alone in front of whatever the Air Force’s version of Band of Brothers is.

Never mind I could be psychologically scarred for life by having to be on five days of best behavior. Cause, no, I can’t just hang out at the ranch, eating groundhogs and hanging with Molly when things get slow.  Nope, I’ve got to be BABYSAT, and that means Frisco’s mom and that means that I’m going to be up against some pretty stiff competition in the petting department.

I know my truth. What would you rather stroke, an Angora rabbit or a wild boar? I may be lap size, but that’s 100% pure muscle baby.

And then there’s the cat – one that I haven’t been trained not to kill. So that’s awkward.  His name is Lynx and he’s a bit of a badass. No tail and he’s got the whole “don’t mess with me I could be a mini-bobcat or something.” That’s my entertainment down the tube.

Then there’s these two boxers next door and seriously, one of them thinks he can take me, and he’s totally in my face when I see him and I so didn’t start that last fight but I totally would have finished it if I’d just had two more minutes and I don’t see why these people get so worked up about these things anyway.

And you know that I’m sure as hell not getting a bed with a human blanket.  Instead I’ll be watching Frisco laying on his TemperPedic throne all night while I probably get the corner of the utility room on a dirty blanket like the Little Match Girl.

And I’ll have to pretend I like it cause I’ve invested a lot of time making sure everyone knows I’m not as soft as Frisco.

Gee.  Hope San Antonio is awesome.  Really.  Hope you all have a blast.