Go figure.
My dog.
Giant pain in the rear.
Eats food off of counters.
Doesn’t stay in the yard. Or the house for that matter.
Diamond earrings. Frozen pork tenderloin. 5 # bag of potatoes. Bags of chips. Fruit roll ups. Chicken poop Fertilizer.
She’s eaten all of this. The last four in the last two weeks.
Barks incessantly.
Never relaxed.
Jumps on visitors. Every time.
Attacks the neighbor’s cat.
Poops on my floor (not always, but with some regularity)
Giant pain the rear.
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This morning, though, I heard my little girl say, “Oh, Belle… you’re the best pet in the world!”
This morning, though, I watched my kids in their pajamas run circles through the house with Belle chasing behind, her tail wagging as they played ‘tag’.
This morning, though, I smiled as somehow, her 80 pounds of craziness played tug with my two babies, and I listened to them both side by side belly laughing as she pulled them across the floor…. with an alert tail and nothing but gentleness in her graying face and paws.
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Oh, Belle. You’re something. Hardly a companion. Unable to walk on a leash. Never relaxed. Annoying to most everyone who enters our home.
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But, Belle. This morning, you reminded me exactly why none of that carries as much weight as it should.
You love my babies, you dumb dog. And that would really be the only deal breaker.
I think I’ll go buy you a treat today. But only a small one. Because I know you’ll eat anything else until you puke all over my house while I’m gone.
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