¡Qué emo(th)ionante!

We’re going to Spain! Tonight! In five hours! And celebrating our one-year anniversary! With friends!

No, the puppy is not coming.

She must have sensed that the piles of clothes in our house were more purposeful than usual, because as we started packing for the trip, she turned into Sweet Kona. She was affectionate, well-behaved and calm. Until this morning, that is.

I had just filled up her huge container of dog food — to last the 10 days we’ll be gone — and she jumped up, knocked off the lid and 17 million food pellets spilled on the patio. Kona is a fatty; even the vet said so. So she went hog-wild. Like a pig. I cursed her name and tried every temptation to lure her inside and into her crate so I could clean up — all while staying sweat free, because my deodorant was packed. It was an ordeal that ended with Kona eating three lunches today.

I just dropped her off at her home for the next 10 days — with our spectacular friends, Malia and Theo. As I put the last of her stuff (chew toys, bones, carpet cleaner, floor cleaner, fur cleaner) on their dining room table , I teared up and said, “It’s like I’m dropping off my kid at daycare for the first time.” Goodnight nurse. Not three hours before I was screaming at her and shoveling pellets in a sweaty rush. Are all dog owners this mercurial?

As I left, I felt so indebted to our good friends for watching Kona for 10 days. Like I should tear off my limb and hand it to them or something. Thanks, you guys!

I’ll be back in about two weeks. Hasta luego.