Woofin’ and Waggin’

I was considering what I should write about, and not feeling terribly inspired. It is a gorgeous day outside – weeds have been calling my name, breezes are drifting flower scents, and above all, my dogs wanted to play.

I admit I caved; we wandered in the woods, we fetched balls (I threw and when they were finished prancing around and the rubber was slick with drool, I picked it up…yuck!), and we got wet when they dashed into the pond and shook droplets all over me. Lovely and lovely again. Then all tuckered out, we wandered back in for treats and scones.

At the computer, with Emmett and Sadie and Molly sprawled around the living room for well-earned snoozes, I realized that short of my family, there is nothing I love more than my dogs. When I had to fight my way through tragedy, their wet noses and warm bodies were always beside me. When I come home, they are ecstatic that I have returned to them. And when I want to goof off, they are so with me on that one.

All my dogs were rescues, from Sadie, part of a litter of pups dumped at a shelter, to Molly, a hungry, matted stray, to Emmett, a starved and abused dog who cowered when I reached out to touch him. Now they are happy, fluffy, well-fed (Sadie’s a little too well-fed) creatures who are my loving, exuberant, protective posse.

There are, I admit, a few down sides to living with dogs – lots of barking at noises (all kinds of noises), fur on everything, and of course, regular poop patrol. But they do their best to please me, try to understand my somewhat incomprehensible commands, and give me endless opportunities to stroke their fur.

I think I got the best of the bargain. To quote the meme, whoever says you can’t buy love, has never bought a puppy.