Wally turned 6

If you ever spent time me in the years before 2020, you likely knew that I had one mission in my adult life: to get a dog.

First, it involved convincing Chad that he was secretly a dog person, underneath so many layers and years of hard-nosed denial.

Second, it involved working and saving and sacrificing and grinding, to become a homeowner. Because, as a condition to the prior, Chad finally agreed to let us get a dog only if we become homeowners.

So, at age 24, desperate to complete my mission (and fueled by a little mix of insanity and indignation), that’s what I did.

Less than 24 hours after going under contract for our first home, I turned to Chad, opened my excel spreadsheet of dog adoption information, and put down a deposit on who we’d soon know as the goofiest, cuddliest, floofiest love of our lives.

Enter: Wally.

Chad and I have been together for 14 years, and I’ve gotta say: the past 6 have been the greatest. By far. Challenging, humbling, hilarious, full of surprises (from several emergency vet visits to grooming reveals) and so much love—Wally has been a gift, wrapped in personality and sass and legs for days.

Happy belated birthday, Wally (Walter Reed when he’s in trouble, Wallace when he’s formal, Yallw when his collar in on upside down). Our bestie boy, our menace, our silly goofy dood, we love you, forever.

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