Meet the Parents June 14, 2014

I can’t say I’m surprised. I know from my own experiences what kind of parents my people can be. The process of adopting me wasn’t an easy one, practically or emotionally. But they did it anyway. Welcoming me into their home was certainly a challenge (especially for dad, who had no prior experience with dogs). But they brought me in with open arms. I’m not always the easiest dog to train. But I have a big heart.

All of this came to mind today as both of them, both of my dear forever parents, paused to play with me like they used to. Don’t get me wrong – this is not the first time this has happened since dear baby Carter was born. But it is one night that will always stick out in my mind as pretty darned special anyway. Sometimes it’s the littlest things that can do this to you.

For me, it was hearing dad say how hard I would be to replace someday. Sure, it sounds awfully morbid. And I’m not going to pretend it didn’t break my heart a little. But mostly I felt honored. Happy. Proud to call these people my family. For as long (or as short) as I may be with them – it doesn’t matter to me because I know in my heart that I love them with all of my little doggie heart and soul every day I live.

“Such short little lives our pets have to spend with us,” said one of mom’s favorite American authors John Grogan. “It is amazing how much love and laughter they bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.”

I’m not shy about my hope that my people choose to adopt their “replacement” for me before I’m gone. That way I can teach him or her the ropes before going away to doggie heaven to watch over everyone. Though it does get a little sad to think about such things, today I felt joy. Today I felt pride.

Because I can’t say I’m surprised at what amazing parents my people are. They’ve been all I ever could have dreamed of for me, and the same is true watching them care for Carter. So it might sound crazy because I do get a lot less love fests than I used to. But today I felt the deepest and sincerest pride for my beloved parents. They are the best parents a dog could ever ask for, and it is an honor to be the dog striving to bring love and joy to their already blessed lives.

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Momma and Me March 13, 2013

From what I’ve heard, it was a bit of a fiasco for my adoptive parents to adopt me. Rather than delve into that whole emotional story right now, I will offer a Reader’s Digest version. To make a very long story (I’m sure I will share at a later date) short, my momma didn’t care what it took to adopt me. It was love at first sight if you believe in such things (which I do).

Apparently, the adoption profiler gave her a bit of grief about the fact that my dad didn’t have prior experience with animals, referenced my alleged behavioral issues, and challenged whether my soon-to-be adoptive parents were prepared to handle such a “handful with a cute face.” Well, my momma told that profiler she didn’t care that I had been previously returned by another adoptive family. She was fine taking me to a behaviorist for my apparent behavioral issues prior to adoption. Heck, she was prepared to adopt a puppy like they did in the movie adaptation of “Marley and Me.”

But she wanted little ole 2-year-old me. Fortunately for me we both won that battle, and our mutual appreciation for “Marley and Me” remains intact. And (in my humble opinion) this is the case because I care so much about author John Grogan’s perspective on dogs.

“A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn’t care if your rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he’ll give you his,” Grogan writes. “How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?”

Like many dog-loving fans, we agree that the book was the slightest bit better than the movie, but both versions are pretty special to momma and me. I was around for the majority of  momma’s first reading of the book, and I can testify that she laughed, cried, smiled and everything in between. If anyone were to write my biography, I would want it to be Mr. John Grogan himself.

This is not just because of the brilliance of both adaptations of “Marley and Me,” but because of what he says in his emotional good bye to Marley at the end of the story.

That is the ultimate reflection of a dog’s joy: from the ground up, if you ask little ole me.