I Love My Dog??

Shelby wanted a dog.  And I admit, even knowing my feelings towards dogs, I decided I had to have one, too.  I was going to be the best dog mommy, and he was going to change my life by forcing me to get up early, therefore making me show up on time to work.  I was going to brush him every other day, and teach him good manners, and I was never ever going to resent him or be annoyed with him and we would be the happiest, most well balanced family in the world.

That lasted a week.  He has separation anxiety.  He eats Barbies.  He steals food.  He drags the cat around by his head.  He burps.  He farts.  He smells like dead worms when the humidity is high.  He wipes his nose on my bed.  He turns into a giant tangle if I give him a bath.  He wants to lick my arms.  Instead of sleeping on the floor next to the bed like a faithful companion, he sleeps on my leg, or stretched sideways across my bed, and occasionally jumps up to launch himself through the mini blinds in the middle of the night and whine at a cat outside.  He humps the cat in front of company.  He’s allergic to everything.  Every morning, as soon as the alarm goes off, he gets the hiccups.  He eats horse poop.  He eats cat poop.

In light of these things, I’ve compiled a list for my own purposes, of wonderful things about Rosco.  A little something I can go to whenever I am about to strangle him.

·         He rarely barks.

·         He does his business outside.

·         He loves the cat.  Too much.

·         His eyelashes are black and 6 inches long.

·         He has big, luminous, intelligent brown eyes.

·         He willingly goes down the slide at the playground with Shelby repeatedly.

·         When I got a moment alone to sit on the kitchen floor and bawl my eyes out over a man who is leaving soon and not coming back, he quietly sat on my lap and leaned against my chest.

·         He rides on the armrest of my car like he owns it.  We occasionally make eye contact, but other than that we are just two lonesome souls, traveling to destinations unknown, side by side staring off into the horizon.

·         He only likes grape chewable Benadryl, not cherry.

·         When you blow in his face he puts his nose between his paws and sneezes.

·         After he eats, he picks up his favorite toy and burps while it is in his mouth so it’s really loud.

·         Every morning I turn on the shower to warm it up while I dig through my sock and underwear drawers, and he comes in with his favorite toy to play exactly two rounds of fetch.  After the second round, he takes the toy to bed with Shelby and goes back to sleep until I wake her up.

·         The pizza delivery guy, the bank teller at Keybank in Cicero, all of the Agape Cowgirls, Monday night volunteers and staff, all the kids at the playground, and all my neighbors know his name and love him.

·         He only likes to play with toys that are twice his size.

·         If I yell at Shelby, he hates me and won’t come near me for an hour.

Well, I just caught him dragging his butt on the floor so I think that’s my cue to stop.