Emma the Dog

For those who know me well...you knew that a post about Lil Emma was inevtible!

"My little old dog, a heartbeat at my feet." Edith Warton

I love this quote. I know it may seem silly, but I feel priveleged to own this precious little dachshund (aka Emma the Dog.) Chad and I have this small little animal that lives with us, and sleeps with us - we feed her, bathe her, walk her, play with her. I know some people feel that attributing human characteristics to dogs is wrong, but it is so hard not to. When you spend years caring for and communicating with a dog, it's hard to keep that "me master, you dog" mindset.

One theory that I've been developing over the past few months touches on why we tend to view domesticated animals as if they have human characteristics. For most children of my generation (I'm 23, who the heck knows what this generation is called) we were raised on Disney movies. We watched the trials and triumphs of the 101 Dalmations. We sang along with a young lion cub who just couldn't wait to be king. Our bodies were racked with sobs as we watched the final scenes of Homeward Bound. These animals spoke English to one another, they understood love, fear, loyalty, compassion, and joy just like I did. Sure, I've never seen a singing hyena or tap-dancing rat in real life, but I have seen and experienced the joy that comes from the unconditional love of a puppy.

When my twin sister and I were in 3rd grade, my parents got us an Australian Shepherd/Border Collie puppy from the Houston ASPCA. When my parents finally had him put to sleep last summer at 14 years old, it was like losing a little brother, not a dog.

When we took Emma to get spayed, I couldn't even bear to watch the Vet Tech take her back into the surgery room. I went out to the car and sobbed as Chad finished the paperwork. Recently, we flew home for a few days and had Emma boarded at a local kennel. I wasn't strong enough for this either - Chad had to do the dirty work of dropping her off. I would much rather have my last image of Emma getting scrubbed down for surgery in a shower cap and backless robe, or running around with her pals at the kennel, than the reality of her frightened brown eyes looking into mine with such a helpless look.

It is past 10:00pm and I'm getting delirious so I should probably cut this short.

From the Brooks family to yours, here is Meredith, Chad, and lil Emma signing off.

Will Work For Mexican Food

I first recognized my addiction four years ago when I was on my way home from college for Christmas break. Sure, I was excited to see my family and friends - but what made me really put the pedal to the metal was the thought that each mile towards Houston put me one mile closer to Taco Cabana.

I cried when we moved from Dallas to Houston. Was it because I would miss my friends? Not really, I could always make new ones. Was it because I was moving away from my older sister? No...I knew she would visit eventually. What kept me awake at night was the fact that I would be leaving my beloved Taco Bueno.

While I was in school in Ruston, Lousiana my love for mexican food further blossomed. I had three great restraunts at my fingertips - Tia Maria's, Cactus Jacks, and my personal favorite Old Mexico. Now, Old Mexico was not for those with weak stomachs. The only one brave enough to steel their stomach and venture into Old Mexico with me was my cousin Emily. We knew there was always a risk of contracting food poisoning or malaria, but boy were those cheese enchiladas worth it.

Here in Lexington, Chad and I have tried scoping out some of the local mexican digs. Chad knows that I could eat mexican food 3 meals a day, 7 days a week and still not satiate my lust for cheese enchiladas. And he is ok with that. That is just one of the reasons why I love him.

So, for now I will spend my days working at the office and my nights searching for Lexington's best cheese enchiladas.