Proof of a Canine’s Love

Another strange day in the household, but I have proof I’m loved. Wow, I could tell you about how my wife is trying to teach our dog to talk by expanding her vocalizations to include the “ah” sound. She keeps telling Lily, “Open your mouth when you rooroo. Say ‘ah’.” For the record, YouTube is insidious when viewed by a momma with a ‘my baby can do that, that little Chihuahua can’t speak better than my girl’ attitude. But I’m not going to tell you about that, at least not today.

I could tell you about one of my mother’s dogs, who is approximately 4 million years old. There are pyramids younger than that dog. She is so old, giant turtles talk about how old she can get. One day, I took her to the museum to see a mummified cat, and she told me she used to chase it. I said, “No, you didn’t,” and she said, “Yes, I did. How do you think it died?” And I think she was telling the truth. This dog watched the big bang. She became a stray when her Neanderthal owners went extinct. She once looked at a dinosaur fossil and said, “He was a good kid.” She was around before air. But age is starting to take its toll and she gets lost in the corner of the living room. Sometimes she stares at the wall for a really long time. But I’m not going to tell you about that, at least not today.

I am going to tell you about my mother’s other dog. You see, he likes me. He likes to jump up, sit on my lap, and enjoy some family time. Today, however, it took an awful turn. Apparently he had just eaten, very quickly, and only partially chewed. He jumped on my lap, looked right in my face, and promptly projectile vomited all over me. Now, I’m one of those sympathetic upchuckers. Sometimes I gag reading the word vomit, and smells, well, they send me to call my friend Ralph way to easily. I once got sick from baby gas, and the baby wasn’t even ugly. So, needless to say, I might have reacted to the dog chow all over me a bit dramatically. There is a possibility I screamed like a diva, “Get it off! Get it off!” as I bounced around in circles on my tiptoes. Just a possibility. What I do know is that my wife chuckled as she cleaned me and told me to “Suck it up.” The rest of my family broke into hysterical laughter. Everyone, that is, except my daughter. She got mad they were making fun of me. I am loved, and it was worth a little prechewed dog food to hear her defend me. Though next time, I hope I can stop squealing long enough to hear her better.