We don’t deserve dogs. We really don’t. I can only hope that my dogs know how much I love them. Over the top? I don’t care.
I currently have four dogs that, if I’m being polite, I would call them cross breeds. They’re mutts and I write that with genuine affection. Hell, most of us are mutts, really.
I have an almost 12 year old Anatolian Shepherd/Lab mix named Daphne that has honestly saved my life or saved me from prison time depending on how you look at it. More on that another time. I have a 6 year old Jack Russell terrorist/American Staffordshire mix named Raven. While Daph may still be the boss, Raven is my little diva. I fully expect to catch a cat one day donning the Raven suit. Then there is Teddy. He’s two. We were told he is a Border Collie mix. Um… No. I do the DNA testing so I know what I’m working with as far as potential health concerns go. He’s a Husky/Malamute/Samoyed/Great Pyr mix along with 30% of something not even in the database. We tested him twice. Yep. He’s a weirdo. Last but not least is Loki. He just turned 1 in April and he is appropriately named. He is the proverbial bull in a China shop.
These 4 have given me more joy than I can even express. They eat bedding, toilet paper, unattended pizza and burgers and I wouldn’t change a thing. They run the house. All I ask of my dogs is that they be dogs with all of the love that title implies.
As humans, we fail. I do. Everyday I fail to love enough, to forgive quickly, and to enjoy this moment. A dog never fails.
Believe me all dogs go to heaven, and to paraphrase Will Rogers, if they don’t, then when I die, I want to go where they do.
Excuse the pics that are obviously phone wallpapers. And yes, I have pics of my dogs on my phone, not my kids.