It's Just a Dog

Hawkeye is a big, old, overweight hair ball.  He needs fed twice a day, let in during extreme temperatures (aren't they ALL extreme lately?) and we had to buy a fence to keep him from exploring the neighborhood and getting arrested.

Radar is an annoying little punk of a dog.  He wants to chew on things and lick us and flop around with wet paws after digging in the water dish.  He ate my blue tooth headset, and he often digs holes in my yard to get to the moles.

They're JUST dogs.  Why not sell them?  Why not give them away?  Why not shoot them?  Why not call it quits and give up on dogs?  It would be SO much easier to leave town if we didn't have to worry about dog care.  Why bother.  They're JUST dogs.

I don't rate my dogs at the same level as my children, but they are VERY much a part of my family.  Nobody is as excited to see my get home as they are.  Nobody appreciates their supper as much as they do.  Nobody gripes less about eating the SAME thing, EVERY day as they do.

The affection, companionship, and total devotion is at a level not found in many humans.  They are everything a pet could be.

Tonight, a long-time friend sent a text to tell Kevin that it was time for his girl to be put down.  He's had her for YEARS.  Her medical issues were insurmountable.  It was time.  No more hurting.  Time to go.  I told Kevin, "I'll send him a text that I'm thinking about him."  I was fine.  I took 10 steps, started a text, and then fell apart.

The girls saw, and wondered what was up.  I told them, and they cried with me.  They've known Belle since they were toddlers.  It's a big thing, and we know what she meant to Brian.  We all had a good cry, and then I went out, found my dogs, and hugged them both.

Even the one who bit my head and licked my ear while I was trying to hug him.  Even the one who left my shirt full of dog hair.  Both of them.

But it's JUST a dog.  Right?  Just a damn dog.