Last year for Halloween our friend Carolina gave Trigger a pirate costume (which he did not enjoy wearing) and Martha a princess costume. It was so funny because girlfriend had some shoulders and they were too wide for her costume- such is the life of a French bulldog. Our dogs bring/brought us so much joy.
I got off the couch this weekend. To my husband's delight, I got off the couch this weekend and rejoined society. I got a hair cut. I went to yoga. I took Trigger Monkey on a walk. Before this weekend I thought about living as a hermit for the rest of my life, but that feeling subsided with time. 
I love this picture of Owen. He's jumping in the ocean water and it looks like he's having lots of fun.
My father called me yesterday. He said he knew Martha Fauker was a special dog, and so on the third day he checked on her grave to see if she had risen. He reported that she had not like he was surprised. I don't know why, but this made me laugh...
After a series of strokes Martha died this week. Here's the email I sent out announcing her death...
To My Family and Friends That Loved Martha Fauker:
It is with a hurting heart that I must inform you that Martha Fauker passed away Tuesday evening. Tuesday night I drove her body to my home town. (She always loved spending time in my home town.) My mother and I had a silent moment under the night sky as my father covered her grave. It was a nice moment of appreciation for her life and sadness that her life had ended. Martha is gone. She will be missed. We loved her so very much.
An outsider would see Martha as a French bulldog. To us she was so much more than just a dog. She was an extension of my personality- my husband always said I was living vicariously through Martha with her blinged-out collars, her pretty princess outfits (yes, she had outfits) and the way I pampered her existence. She was a giver of unconditional love- her main goal was to be in the same room with us. She loved to sit at our feet, at our bedside, or next to our chair, and when we moved rooms, she moved with us. She was an important member of our family.
From the moment I rescued her, over 8 years ago, she had my heart. She was smart. Determined. She had a very interesting little personality. Martha Fauker always believed that she was the boss and as a result the other dogs she encountered (even physically superior dogs) treated her as the boss…as the queen! That was one of the philosophical lesson Martha Fauker taught me- to believe you’re boss and you’ll be boss! Any time I had a moment of self doubt, my husband would always tell me to “Be Martha,” which meant that I had to believe in myself.
Tuesday night, after I drove back to Dallas and my husband flew back to Dallas (Martha’s death interrupted his business trip), we went to bed. I was unaccustomed to the quietness that was present in our room without the snoring sounds of Martha.
You recall that we had work people over to the house last Friday? We have our framed diplomas proudly displayed in our home, and one of our directors made the following comment to me:
