Today I write a post devoted to my dog. Or my husband. Or both.

Kelly, Tit Tat, Cricket, Leia, Daisy, Buttercup and Lily. That's how many cats I've had in my life. Zero dogs. My dad always said you had to have a fence to get a dog, and you had to have a pool to need a fence, but damn if he ever prescribed with such certainty what necessitated a pool. We never got a pool, a fence or a dog. I think this qualifies me as canine-inexperienced. Then Cydney got Dixie Girl, and our family started to get ready for Corey to deploy. Anticipating my loneliness and too smart to try to have a baby all alone, I decided I wanted a dog of my own. While Corey was in Florida meeting his new niece, the boys and I took possession of what is now my schmoopy poopy puppy, Audie Murphy Allbritton.

It's really important when your husband is deployed to stay busy, stay connected to people and find hobbies. Apparently. But it doesn't matter how busy you are or how many wreaths or oven mitts you make or how many fondue dinners you have with the funniest people you know, nothing disguises the fact that when you go home, your husband is missing. Last night I went to dinner with a good friend I don't see nearly enough even though we're neighbors and I had a blast. When I got home, I wanted to put on my nightgown and wash my face and sit down on the couch next to Corey Daniel and tell him all about it. I come home at night and tell Corey what shenanigans Erin, Cami, Kia and I stirred up at work that day. Or that I got my feelings hurt and we need to go to the Olive Garden to drink that cheap red wine they have that is The Shit.

It's painfully apparent when that critical element of being married is missing. Sometimes it feels like staying busy and seeing friends and getting into hobbies only reminds you that you're involuntarily alone, because under normal circumstances, somebody would be at the house to listen to you talk about this stuff or to tell you that your new photo album is cute.

I have a weakness for VH1 reality shows focused on the trials and tribulations of struggling celebrities. I love me some Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew. This season has McKenzie Phillips (let me know if you want to borrow the book) and this week she had to make the decision to have her dog put under while in rehab. His name was Max and he appeared to be a very old, very sick pug. Dr. Drew took her to the vet to see her dog and she fed him ice cream, which he had not been able to eat because he's diabetic and she cried and kissed him and fed him ice cream and told him "bye" and while I started out thinking this was a little dramatic, I ended up holding Murphy and rocking and crying.

Sad, alone, rode-hard-and-put-up-wet McKenzie Phillips made me very grateful for my dog today. As I write this, he keeps bringing things to put in my lap so I can throw them and he can fetch and bring them back. Rinse and repeat. We do that all night. We love tennis balls, squeaky toys and plastic cups. When I started crying, he gets very upset and climbs in my lap. He has the confidence of a very large dog and does not appreciate noises in the vicinity of our door. He doesn't care what I bought at Hobby Lobby today, but his tail wags when I tell him about it. My dog thinks I'm as awesome as my husband does, and whatever the time of day and for whatever the length of time we have been apart, he can never contain his excitement to see me when I walk in the door.

Today, I am very happy for my dog and my husband, who came out of his savings and let me buy a purebred, because he needed no convincing that I was going to need something to listen to me for an entire year. I know he's a dog, not a husband named Corey or a son named Jake or Landen. I know he understands limited English. I know he can't drink wine or eat pizza. And unlike Corey, the only show he shows any affection for is "The Golden Girls." And even though he refuses to take a shadoobie in the designated areas when it's raining outside and Corey always goes where he's supposed to, I am thankful to have him.

Now I owe a post to Lily the Doodlebug.