You would think I had just asked him to clean up!
Some friends of ours just lost their furry pal of ten years this week. It made me look at our own nearly 9 year old furry family member in a whole new light.
I've often told people : "A dog is like a kid that's not allowed in a hotel."
To all my fellow friends who move every couple of years, you know exactly what I mean by this.
8 years ago with a round pregnant belly (Soph) we went to pick out Sid from a litter of pups. Actually we were just going to look at them, ha! No one ever just looks at puppies. Joe had narrowed the 4 male puppies down to two that he liked... we played with them and he chose an adorable chocolate brown and white speckled pup with a perfect bullseye spot on it's side. As we continued to play with the pups and get to know their parents a bit, I noticed the first pup we had picked up had not left Joe's side. It was the strangest thing, but he followed Joe all through the yard. Sitting at his feet whenever he stopped walking. Joe was watching the kid puppy interaction and hadn't noticed.
"You can't have bullseye," I said to him finally, and then pointed down at his feet "that one all ready chose you."
He looked down and there sat the number two choice. Sweet floppy ears and big brown eyes. Little tail wagging. Still seated directly at Joe's feet.
It was puppy love.
As we drove away, that little nine week old ball of fur on my lap began to howl... a three year Jade burst into tears "We have to take him back to his family!" she wailed. We assured her we could be his family now, that she would be his new sister and Sam would be his new brother.
And that is just the way it's been. He is our furry son.
This dog of ours is the gentlest dog I have known with both the kids and the crazy 11 pound cat (see here) that uses him as a spring board. He never ate a chicken, though I am sure he thought, perhaps even dreamed, of doing so. He follows the kids from room to room to check on them. Sleeps under their beds. Is hilariously afraid of thunder and nervous about suitcases and moving boxes. Wags his tail and nudges my hand with his nose every time I buy him a bag dog food, as if to say thank you. Is incredibly loyal. He barks at Joe daily when he comes home from work, drives me crazy and makes me laugh (see here and here and here). Whenever we leave, he is at the door waiting, tail wagging when we return. His most favorite place to be is right in the middle of the chaos of our big noisy family.
And this week, I was reminded of how thankful I am that he chose us.
All of the above sentimental rambling could be rolled in to two words that would be good enough for Sid.