That's the definition of iroooony

Saturday morning was a little tough -- Brent left at 3 a.m. for the first day of archery season, and Lucy and I were left to our own devices. I moped around for the better part of the morning, but headed to the dog park in the afternoon.

Turns out Lucy and Snacks are better friends that we had originally thought. (More on that later.)

The ironic part of this whole journey is that I spend 11 weeks hoping for no spotting. Now, I'm praying to get Aunt Flo, so we can start trying again. I guess humans can never be truly satisfied after all.