They will change your life
Guest editorial by The Husband and curator of the crazy museum
Today marks the first time I have felt compelled to join the emotional venting production team of cleanfloorsdirtypaws/diapers. One would think it would be to promote something fantastic that my darling son has accomplished or failed to accomplish, or to sneakily praise my wife for her ridiculous natural ability of mothering this hen house of nitwits. Sadly it's neither. I'm here to glorify and sing the praises of my most cherished companion, the Bitch named Lilly.
Lilly,
Today you are Nine years old. The bright autumn red of your coat is slowly receding to the encroaching whiteness of your paws and muzzle, yet it has done so, so gracefully that I only seem to notice while looking at pictures from your youth and comparing them to the present.
A man and his dog, is not that the truest love?
You are the sassiest bitch on the block, and continue to add to the list of things you will not do:
walk on wet grass, concrete, or asphalt
pee on grass that has already been peed on
go outside in the rain
go to bed without flapping your ears a dozen times
take a bath willingly
sit in the car space that you have been provided with
stop licking your feet with slow lapping tongue flaps
walk on leash in a straight line
leave any item of food or potential food wrapped in plastic unconsumed
leave my side, under any conditions.
I am the father, husband, and son, I am today; because of you. You are my shadow; my constantly concerned admirer, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't want to thank you.
I'm sorry for all the times I spanked you, called you a whore, or yelled at you for doing something you(in your eyes) absolutely had to do do. Your arrogance is part of your charm. I have no credibility as I have no justification for my disgust of mayonnaise, seafood, or women who accentuate "s" sounds when they talk.
You have accepted the additions of your slightly damaged bulldog brother, bulimic flea bag sister, compulsive vacuuming, walk Nazi of a mother, and are as patient as one of your age and stature can be expected to be with the ever poking and prodding of Caches.
People see us and they say,"That's what it's like to have a dog? We should get a dog!" I want to tell them it takes a lot of work and patience, vet bills, sleepless nights.........ect. In the end all it really takes is love, and the right dog.
So stretch out in the sun, lick your feet, chase the cat, eat something we forgot to put away, today is your day. Just know that you mean the world to me. All who know me are grateful for the impact that you have made on my life. I couldn't have done it without you.
Love,
dad
P.S.. you are still the fastest dog on the beach, and the scourge of squirrels and rabbits the world over.
Today marks the first time I have felt compelled to join the emotional venting production team of cleanfloorsdirtypaws/diapers. One would think it would be to promote something fantastic that my darling son has accomplished or failed to accomplish, or to sneakily praise my wife for her ridiculous natural ability of mothering this hen house of nitwits. Sadly it's neither. I'm here to glorify and sing the praises of my most cherished companion, the Bitch named Lilly.
Today you are Nine years old. The bright autumn red of your coat is slowly receding to the encroaching whiteness of your paws and muzzle, yet it has done so, so gracefully that I only seem to notice while looking at pictures from your youth and comparing them to the present.
A man and his dog, is not that the truest love?
You are the sassiest bitch on the block, and continue to add to the list of things you will not do:
walk on wet grass, concrete, or asphalt
pee on grass that has already been peed on
go outside in the rain
go to bed without flapping your ears a dozen times
take a bath willingly
sit in the car space that you have been provided with
stop licking your feet with slow lapping tongue flaps
walk on leash in a straight line
leave any item of food or potential food wrapped in plastic unconsumed
leave my side, under any conditions.
I am the father, husband, and son, I am today; because of you. You are my shadow; my constantly concerned admirer, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't want to thank you.
I'm sorry for all the times I spanked you, called you a whore, or yelled at you for doing something you(in your eyes) absolutely had to do do. Your arrogance is part of your charm. I have no credibility as I have no justification for my disgust of mayonnaise, seafood, or women who accentuate "s" sounds when they talk.
You have accepted the additions of your slightly damaged bulldog brother, bulimic flea bag sister, compulsive vacuuming, walk Nazi of a mother, and are as patient as one of your age and stature can be expected to be with the ever poking and prodding of Caches.
People see us and they say,"That's what it's like to have a dog? We should get a dog!" I want to tell them it takes a lot of work and patience, vet bills, sleepless nights.........ect. In the end all it really takes is love, and the right dog.
So stretch out in the sun, lick your feet, chase the cat, eat something we forgot to put away, today is your day. Just know that you mean the world to me. All who know me are grateful for the impact that you have made on my life. I couldn't have done it without you.
dad
P.S.. you are still the fastest dog on the beach, and the scourge of squirrels and rabbits the world over.
What has taken you so long to write. This is beautiful. Will never forget you and Lilly stopping by after your runs in Woodward Park, to grab a treat, until that one morning, when Maggie was introduced, and Lilly just hung her head and walked down the driveway to the sidewalk, headed down the street. She looked like she had been slapped in the face. How could I get a dog, a peaty puppy at that, to disrupt her pit stop. Lilly even refused a treat that morning. Bad bitch is right!
ReplyDeleteHA!!! "slightly damaged bulldog brother". well done, ryan. happy (belated) birthday lilly!
ReplyDelete