June 30th 2012 8:53 pm
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A good dog just puts a smile on their owner's face, and I excel at that.
It may be when I prance around with a toy in my mouth daring anyone to try to tug it away from me.
It may be when I plop down on the middle landing halfway up the stairs, because I know I'm not really supposed to be upstairs. Or even when I run around like a silly maniac up and down the stairs.
It may be when I flop on my back with that give-me-belly-rub-stat look.
It may be the you-have-food-gimme look as I rest my head on the arm of your chair.
It may be the countless ways I scheme to steal from my partner-in-crime. OK, not so much a partner, just an unwilling target of my thieving ways.
It may be on those random occasions when I actually listen and do what I'm told. Just so you know I'm plenty smart enough, but what's in it for me?
I am a mischievous, but funny, little monster brat, but my owner couldn't adore me more.
I am loved. That makes me a good dog.
Somehow, originally, I ended up on the euthanasia list at the pound. I was only a 4 month old puppy. But maybe I was a little too enthusiastic about everyone I met and it was misunderstood. Who knows? But a loving foster rescued me, and gave me enough manners to fool my forever mom long enough for her to take me home about 3 months later, and then it was too late. Even though I tried her patience at times, she loved me from the start, and kept on working through the many ways I found to aggravate her, because of the ways I keep on making her smile.
And I smile back, make no mistake. My toys, my treats, my belly rubs, my walks, my ear scratchings, and the handful of dogs in the neighborhood who can handle my special brand of in-your-face playtime spirit (a lot cross the street when they see me coming, but it's their loss.)
And she doesn't always understand me. I mean, she never even had a dog before. But she always tries to do the right thing by me, starting with the adoption, and the commitment to work through whatever things we disagree on, and I know I'll be safe and taken care of, so I'll help teach her the difference between dogs like me and the cats she always had before.
It's amazing how many other dogs are out there waiting for homes. How can anyone leave them at the pound, maybe on death row, so they can feed the puppy mill industry because they're hung up on what breed they get? I'm not even sure what breeds I am, nor is my forever mom, but it doesn't matter because we just fit together. And I'm gorgeous, as I'm sure you noticed :-)
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