Well That Was an Interesting Weekend

So that whole thing where life here is shaking up in big ways and small is still taking place.  I think we're at the very tail end of all the transition, so that's a good thing. I picked up a few jobs, and I'm still working on finding balance again. Micah changed schools and things have gone seamlessly, which is far more than we ever dreamed. One of the last changes involved the kennel. We planned to transition out the Boston, the spaniels, and the corgis, and replace all of the above with french bulldogs. Jack was the start of that back in August. Over the weekend, we acquired the last of our pack of frenchies. The girls, Jill and Darla, have joined our family.

And because we're in transition, the spaniels are still here.  At this exact point in time, we have 7 dogs in the house. And a litter of 7 puppies. In this little experiment I like to call How Low Does Your Sanity Go, I have found my breaking point. The previous 5 dogs we had in the house taxed my sanity. Two more is just too much. None of our three wonderful frenchies are housebroken, including Jack, who has lived here for three months. I'm beginning to think that the french breed of bulldog is one stubborn strain of dog. I have reached my breaking point. And yet, I have to live with the dogs until they find absolutely wonderful homes. I'm praying that it's tomorrow. Know anyone that wants an already housebroken Cavalier King Charles Spaniel for Christmas? At Thanksgiving?

So we went to Gettysburg to pick up Darla and Jill, and took advantage of the fact that we were there and toured around the battlefields. Can you believe that I've never been there before? Ever? And I live here in Pennsylvania. I'm not a history buff in the sense that I pore over books and watch the history channel, but I do enjoy walking through history when I can experience it in real life. Gettysburg is awesome. I have plans to go back someday and bike the auto tour. And walk through the fun little town. I had plans to walk the fun little town this weekend, mind you, but neither Darla nor Jill wanted anything to do with a leash and chose, instead, to lay down and pretend they were being tortured. Carrying dogs is just not the same as leisurely walking a dog. I'm just saying.

Oh, wait, you wanted pictures of the girls?

That's our sweet Darla. She became our favorite 39 seconds after seeing her. Yes, we play favorites up in here.

And this is Jill. Yes, I know it's incredibly tacky to have a Jack and a Jill. The wonderful husband, who is almost as crazy as I am for allowing me to buy those girls in the first place, insisted that her name be Jill *because* we have a Jack. I know, I know. But hey, she's cute.