Here's a picture of how he walked all three pups.
In addition to the dogs and the vicious cat that he kept locked in the guest room, Brett was in charge of managing all shipments delivered to Chris Union's house. During this time of renovations, Brett had to keep an eye out for various packages of construction equipment and tools and one big box that contained a new tire for my car because he ran over a manhole cover and popped my wheel just before I left. He's always beating up my cars. I also strategically left out a list of jobs that need to get done here at BP Farms, things like painting a board on the roof, garage improvements, lawn care, and wishes for a porch swing. Oh and I left him with six large plants to care for and about 25 small ones to spritz on occasion.
I'm happy to report that I came home to four living pets and 31 happy, healthy plants. He painted that board (and the garage), mowed the lawn, and painted and hung a porch swing. He also sanded and painted my bathroom, installed some kitchen shelves, put on my new tire, stocked the fridge with my favorite breakfast supplies, and planted my "rescue agave" cactus in the backyard so it can grow even bigger and stronger.
Here's a picture I took from the comfort of the new porch swing.
Once I got home from our trip, Brett finally admitted to me that three dogs is one too many and that he had no free or alone time for two weeks. He had gone into my absence with excitement, finally able to read, have some Brett time, work on Brett projects. He said he got nothing done. I feel for the fella, but he sure got a lot done over at my house.
Our flight got in late on Thursday night so we all went straight home to sleep and I told Mom I'd bring over her pets whenever. Buddy and Bobo were home by 8:30 the next morning because I couldn't stand it; the meowing and grunting and clickety-clacking of twelve paws circling my bed. I am now more convinced than ever that Brett Eisenhauer is part saint.
A few more notes before I start my trip reporting. As soon as I got home I needed some Dock Time. It doesn't feel like Summer without Dock Time and though I did get a little bit with a few special friends on the Fourth of July....
...this summer has been mostly void of that salty paradise. Also, Pippa had never had a dock day. Sure we'd walked out there last winter and she even leapt into the pluff mud but she's never had the pleasure of donning a life-jacket and charging over the edge into our murky blue/brown water.
Mom said that Buddy was a little despondent after he came home from two weeks at camp. My little heart broke for Buddy. No problem. We loaded up, fitted Pip for a floatation device, and opened the gate.
Unsure at first, Pippa dutifully followed the crowd and did as Buddy and Grace did. She flattened out and tried to resist when I lowered her onto the floating dock but before she knew it she was bobbing and surfing like the rest of them. Then Brett jumped in. Buddy followed, Grace brought up the rear, and Pip watched from her floating perch. A true adventurer, Pip reared back, leapt up, pointed her toes, and dove into the water like a human, front paws first, submerging her head, then belly, and then her straightened back legs. It nearly killed us. It was so cute and funny. I'll try to get it on video soon. She dove like this, in and out in and out and finally did a normal dog jump when she thought she might land on Grace. Pippa loved Dock Time and swims so fast. I felt like a parent watching their child experience something new.
One last thing. Brett picked us up from the airport on Thursday night. We were supposed to get in a little before 11:00 but our flight was delayed and we didn't make it until after midnight. We felt horrible about keeping Brett up so late. We told him to stay home and we'd just take a taxi. He insisted and just before we boarded our last flight he asked me if I had any markers in the house. I was too tired to read into this.
We arrived in Charleston, sleepy and confused, to find Brett, Erik and Chelsea in the lobby holding signs and grinning at us. Erik's poked fun and my old parents while Chelsea's nodded to Pippa's Russian heritage.
Brett's sign had bystanders feeling awkward. He held a balloon that said, "It's a boy!" and the following poster.
Women gave me dirty looks while menfolk giggled and looked at Brett like a fool. Brett (who feels no shame) loves to embarrass me and will happily go down with the ship for the sake of a laugh.
Next to us was a foreign family of a dozen people wearing matching T-shirts of someone's face and they were having a tearful family reunion. It seemed to be the first time meeting of a long-lost grandfather or perhaps his long-awaited arrival in the United States. They were all crying and filming and hugging. Though it made my homecoming feel much more trashy, I was touched that my friends stayed up so late to greet us.
I felt like the luckiest pregnant cheater in Charleston.
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