Frida Kahlo (not the painter)

I’m not sure I’ve actually done a post yet about my pride and joy.

No, not my kids, dummies. My dog.

Yes, you heard me right, I actually love a dog. My dog. My adorable Italian Greyhound named Frida Kahlo.

Okay, so you may remember me having dogs in the past. And then not having those dogs anymore. They didn’t die, no, we gave them to incredibly loving homes. I’m not a complete monster. There was Indy and Jack and Susie and Zeek….am I missing any? Probably. Anyway, I was quietly obsessed with Italian Greyhounds for a while and NO it wasn’t because one of the Kardashians is, too. I actually really wanted a big greyhound because Jenny had two and they were amazing. But having another big dog was not in the cards for us. But I could hide a small one for a while.

That led to my secret purchase the weekend we moved to Portland:

Photo Jul 18, 1 27 07 PM

Just look at her.

So she’s tiny and her legs are like toothpicks and when she runs she’s insane and when you carry her she looks like a fawn. She’s such a badass.

Photo Nov 07, 1 17 20 PM

My favorite thing? Her ridiculous instagram page in which I caption photos in her voice and sometimes score free stuff like Sojo dog food and dog clothes.

YOU GUYS. DOG CLOTHES.

Photo Dec 20, 10 49 38 AM

I mean, we are Rip City.

And look at those rubber booties. I die. I die because it’s so dumb and hilarious and awesome.

She sleeps at my feet at night and doesn’t like leaving my side which I’m oddly okay with. I’m fresh out of babies so she’s the next best thing I guess.

 

(don’t worry, the kids and danny will always rank higher than Frida. But Frida is higher than Scout. Sorry.)

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