You are an awesome dog. It has been such a pleasure having you in our family for the last 10 days. I think you really seem to fit in well with our family. First of all, you are truly one of the most beautiful labs I’ve ever seen…
I mean really… have you ever seen a more beautiful boy than this?
And I promise that my love for you is not based on the fact that you have yellow eyes
like a certain vampire I might have a small crush on.
You don’t know this, but your life is vastly different from that of your predecessor, Brodie. When we first brought Brodie into our home, Hubs and I were not yet married and had no children. He was my first experience as a mom. I took that role very seriously. And let’s just say, Brodie certainly reaped the benefits. He spent the first 5 years of his life living like a king. He ate the finest food, spent hours at the park or beach, slept in our bed and basked in the life of luxury. And to be honest, he lived like that for many years even after we had kids. But as he got older, we got busier with the kids and the house and work and life, and Brodie’s existence became much more like a typical dog- eat, sleep, poop, get some pets an scratches, repeat. But he was happy, always happy because he was getting old too and he was thrilled just to spend his days napping on our couch.
You, my dear Spike, are at a bit of a disadvantage. You see, we already have two kids (three if you include Hubs at times). Being a mom is old hat and the role of “child” has been filled. So you, my cute canine, are just that… our pet. You will always have 100% of what you need and will be well taken care of. But your rank in the hierarchy of our home is pretty much set. But fear not, the lowest man, er, dog on the totem pole in our house lives better than the highest in a lot of homes. And we most definitely love you already.
I love that your head is the size of a compact car. I love that your paws are big enough to wear my shoes. I think it’s awesome that you weigh more than my children combined. But what’s the most awesomesauce thing about you? It’s the fact that you have no concept of how much you weigh or truly how big you are. In your world, size is irrelevant. It’s all about the lovin’.
You want love. And you want it all the time. You’ll bulldoze your giant noggin’ into our laps just to get some ear rubs or a booty scratch. And if you’re just feeling a bit snuggly, you have no problem simply leaning against whoever happens to be standing nearby- whether it be me or my 30 pound 5 year old. It doesn’t matter. You just need your leanin’ lovn’. So we just keep our knees bent at all times and our weight in the center- always be prepared for a random lean. And we’re cool with that.
But it’s not just your Lab Calendar good looks. You are also quite sweet. You don’t mouth or steal the kids’ toys. You don’t jump up on the furniture. You’re pretty content on your bed when we settle in for the evening. You sit and wait for permission to eat or go outside. And you don’t even poop all over my lawn. Although pooping on top of bushes seems a bit strange to me, it certainly makes cleaning up after you a lot less of a concern. I like to think of it as free fertilizer.
And I have to say, Spike, that you are one of the smartest dogs I’ve met. You are catching on to your training with the speed of a G.A.T.E. student. (Do they even have G.A.T.E. anymore? Probably not because it’s not politically correct or economically possible to give any funding to the kids who need a little more.) You have mastered the sit command and seem to be making great strides with “down” and “come.” I can understand how those are a bit more difficult. And your leash manners are superb. We have yet to take you to the dog park, but I am confident that you will exceed our expectations there, as well.
From the moment we put you in the car to come home with us, we knew we’d all get along just fine.
“Take me to my new home! “
And since we are on the subject of your vast intelligence, I think it’s a good time to continue your education a bit. You see, you’re new to our home, so you don’t exactly know the way things work. Let me enlighten you. To be clear and to the point, I love coffee. Like my children and my husband, it is one of the shining stars in my life. It brightens my morning and puts a smile on my face. It’s a simple pleasure, but it’s mine. And I love it. A lot. What I’m trying to say, Spike, is this…
I understand that you are a lab. You’re not my first, nor will you be my last. I get that you guys are always hungry no matter how much food you consume. I realize that you guys consider counter surfing an Olympic sport and you’re a Russian gymnast. I recognize that the kitchen, even mine, provides a certain je ne sais quoi? It’s alluring, tempting. And you are a curious little guy. And perpetually hungry.
But, my sweet little dude, you had better apply your super-canine brain to learn the lesson I am about to bestow upon you. Today you used your Get Out Of Jail Free Card. You don’t want to see my reaction if I ever come home to find my entire coffee machine sprawled out on my kitchen floor with the filter and grounds unceremoniously bathing the laminate floors and the lid to the pot cracked , having splattered coffee all over my newly refinished cabinets. Like I said, coffee is like one of my children- the joy in my heart and the sun on a dark day. And like a mother bear, when someone attacks one of her cubs, things are going to get ugly. Real. Ugly. You don’t want to see what this mama bear will do.
So the next time you’re home alone and you get a little bored? Eat one of the 15 toys we’ve bought you. Chomp on the Kong we stuffed with dog treats. Take a nap. Stand guard at the window. Lay on your bed and contemplate the meaning of life. Whatever floats your boat, works for me. As long as it keeps you far, far away from my caffeinated child. Capiche?
That’s just my normal.
You feel me?
I think we’re all going to get along just fine…