“Kona and Rosie are both puppies. Kona was supposed to be primarily Flynn’s, and Rosie mine. Some days, there is a flip-flop of bonding and which interconnects and bonds us all together as a family. Rosie is the younger puppy and she is a link to my last dog Sophia, who I was deeply connected with. Rosie is another chance at trying to give my heart away. I know I’m supposed to be her mom. She is as sweet as they come, always looking around, taking everything in. She makes eye contact with people across the way, drawing them in. Flynn says she’s soliciting people. He’s one of those people. Every day, he finds himself saying, “she’s so cute,” at something she has done. Often, it’s in the morning after she leaves her kennel. She’ll jump on the couch and just want to cuddle with him while, she waits for breakfast.
For Kona, the morning is less about snuggling, and more about energy. She jumps on the bed and she stomps all over you. Once you’re making your way out of bed, she’ll trot past you with her ears pinned back. She looks like she’s walking on her tippy toes. She’ll either run to the sliding glass door, or the cat’s window seat, to look outside. She hangs out there, with the cat, stretching on her back legs with front paws on the window, watching. She is so intelligent and curious, but that’s only part of what makes her such a special dog. She has eyes that look into your soul. As someone who fights pain every day, you need someone that really sees you, and Kona does. She’s so loving. My bed is the place the pain eases for me. Kona is always hanging with me there, making me feel loved. When Flynn is away, she will check on a strange sound or give a big bark and I feel safe. Having two puppies at the same time can be overwhelming some days. But, what they give back to you, it far outweighs the effort.”