The Puppy

I’ve mentioned it before, but it stands repeating: The Puppy is the sun, we revolve around her. She is the best thing ever, in the whole-wide-world. Ever. Here are some reasons why:

Each and every one of my friends has the same reaction upon first meeting The Puppy. It goes something like this: My friend opens the front door and is greeted by me and The Puppy. Friend stops short and looks wildly around, notices the squeaky toys and the dog bed. Friend’s face slowly drains of color as they put one hand to the wall to support themselves. Friend wails, “But you don’t even like dogs!” Grinning like a mad fiend I joyfully reply, “I know!” This oft-repeated scenario has made me deliriously happy each time it has played out. Seeing my friends at such a disadvantage has made me inordinately fond of having The Puppy around.

The Puppy does not have bad habits. The Puppy does not poop or pee in the house, chew on non-puppy items, sleep on the furniture, bark at anyone other than the mailman, tear up garbage, poop or pee on the lawn, howl when she’s left alone, whine for food, beg for attention or any other annoying thing that regular puppies do.

She treats each new day as a special gift. Each morning is a love-filled round of meet-and-greets as she traverses the house making sure that each one of us (Myself, The Grumpy One, and the Funny One) has survived through the night. In a land of fog, she is the sun.

Talking a right at the street means a walk; a left hand turn means a truck ride. This the puppy knows. The puppy is hecka smart. She knows that she rides in the back of my truck, but inside The Grumpy One’s truck. She knows that it’s okay to be on the Funny One’s bed, but not to step one paw inside my bedroom (except for the morning meet-and-greet, when she’s allowed to softly lick my hand, for aliveness verification, and then quickly retreat). She recognizes the sound of a diesel engine and will look longingly for the Grumpy One each time one passes. She knows that the sheep and goats are only to look at, not to chase.

The Puppy is fun. The Puppy plays a mean game of Mr. Rabbit. Sometimes this game is also called Squeaky Toy. The Puppy knows that this game can be played in the backyard or in the house. She knows that this Game can also be played with a tennis ball. The Puppy thinks she is very fast, but she is wrong. She is not as fast as me, as long as we stay on the wood floor. She is a little faster than me if we are on the lawn where she has traction. The Puppy doesn’t care if I cheat while we play Mr. Rabbit, she loves me.

The Puppy has only one flaw: she belongs to our friend who is on vacation.