Three years ago, we didn’t know that our life as a family was going to change. We had no idea that four months later my husband would find and fall in love with a big, white puppy with sad eyes and that weird knob on his skull that goes away when dogs grow up. Seriously, so sad.
Was I keen on getting a puppy? Honestly, only because it made my husband so happy. I wasn’t looking forward to the poop in the yard (or in the house), the dog smell on the furniture, or any of the other less-pleasant aspects of having a dog. Not that we didn’t bond quickly…
It’s just that I’m more of a cat person.
Three years later, I can’t imagine a more perfect dog for our family. He’s a Boxer, so he still acts like a big, goofy puppy a lot of the time. But he’s sweet and affectionate (to the point where I just roll my eyes when he cuddles his “dad” and pets his face with those huge paws), he’s gentle with the kids
loves the cats (especially Lucy, who adores him)
and behaves himself beautifully on our walks. He runs like a cross between a greyhound and Phoebe Buffay (usually on the more graceful end of that spectrum)
chases sticks like a boss, stalks like a lion
and lets food bounce off of his head when you throw him a treat. No simile for that one, he’s just a bit of a doofus.
And then there’s this face…
That’s about it, unless you want to hear the horror story of his neutering. No? Excellent choice.
Here’s hoping for many more years of joyful life and good health.
Happy Birthday, Jack!