Oh Dawgs!

We have had the joy of having two remarkable creatures in our lives the last 10 years.   Both Scott and I grew up in homes with dogs, so it was a natural step after our marriage vows and before the human children, to get a dog (or two).   They really are great dogs-- Bootsy and Ranger.   We've vacationed with them, went on countless adventures and walks.  Ranger would keep my bed warm when Scott is away.  Silent and yet attentive.  Sensitive and loyal.  I know that there will always be someone who is waiting for me to come home.  Happy to see me, regardless of the state of my mind or the mood.  If I think of it, they spend most of their short lives waiting for us to come home.  If that's not loyalty, I don't know what is.  

But we have also endured 3000 days of vacuuming up the hair, 12000 poops to scoop, 10 springs of  poopy yard clean-up,  two major surgeries totaling 1000 dollars in the last year, 1 incident involving a skunk, two incidents involving wildlife including baby ducks and all the inconveniences which comes with owning dogs.

This year, both my dogs will turn 11.  It is bitter sweet.  Bootsy is now recovering from a surgery to remove a lump on her hind leg.  She is not doing so well.  She had to wear one of those silly cones.  She can't manouver herself, so, she continues to pout and runs into everything including the baby.  Ranger had a seizure yesterday.  I cried.  He looked at me with nothing but pureness in his eyes as he tried desparately to move his body which kept collapsing.  

When our human children came, there was obviously less time for walkies and ball throwing time.  And to be honest, many of the things involving the dogs became burdensome.  Some days, all I can think of when I think of my dogs is hair and poop.  That's it.  And yet, they give me so much.  In fact, they give me everything they got.  I am their whole world.  That's a huge compliment--to be someone's whole world.  I keep thinking when it is time for them to go, I will need a break from having pets, from poops and hair.  But I know I will miss them. I don't even remember what it feels like to come home to an empty house or to not have shadows that follow me around the house.  It will be strange for sure.