There are many disgusting things to say about dogs.
They revel in bodily excretions, going so far as to eat their own #2 or making a second meal out of a meal they’ve just vomited. They often reek (I am convinced they are the only animal that actually smells worse immediately after bathing). They chew on your stuff and your person. They jump on your friends. They embarrass you with their bad behavior. They lick your kneecaps and elbows, resulting in an unpleasant, damp, and warm moistness that remains throughout your walk to work and first hour of sitting at a desk. They shed, leaving hair everywhere, even just after you’ve vacuumed, especially when you’re wearing black tights or dark pants that you need in order to look polished and professional.
I could go on like this forever, as I’m sure anyone who has puppies or their more advanced counterparts – toddlers – knows.
However, even when you are most annoyed with them, their great, abiding love for you and their unending adorableness will always, inevitably, kill your steely will and upend your desire to skin them and send the pictures to PETA. Especially when they know you need them.
It’s the cuteness. It can’t be overcome.
See examples below.
Boon, ever the watchdog, will compromise with the villains, coyotes, and murderers outside the bay windows to keep you safe. He will remain on alert while lying in the sun, scanning lazily for threats.
Annie, whose aggressive cuddling can sometimes be a hindrance, wants you to know that she loves you deeply and will always sleep in the crook of your knees, head on thigh, if you have the flu and have been vomiting for six hours.
She also wants you to know that she will NOT, however, ever allow Boon to cuddle, too.
“THESE KNEES ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE,” she says. “‘CUDDLE WITH ME.’ THAT IS MY COMMAND.”
If, however, Annie has been up all night with you, monitoring your progress and licking your pajamas while your head is in the puke receptacle, she will be too tired to prevent The Enemy from cuddling also. He loves you, too, but cuddles mostly out of jealousy.
“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free from the fumes of influenza and throw up” . . . There is room for everyone on the Sick Couch of America.
And now, here are two pictures of my cottonwoods, just in case you weren’t sure it was a blustery, autumn day.
Be well. – SAWK
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