Puppy Love
Just about breaks your heart, doesn’t it?
That’s the look I get every morning when I leave for work. Makes it really hard to leave, but it does give me an incentive to come back again. Funny, though, that I get more of that from a dog than I did from anyone else. She’s smarter than a lot of people I know, too.
For instance, she’s taught herself pig latin. No, really! The other day, I told her that we weren’t going to go for our “alkway” and she sat down, looking at me expectantly, just like when we’re getting ready to go for our walk. So, instead, I told her we were going for a ride in the car. After I got the leash on her and walked through the gate, she went right to the car. She still wanted me to lift her in, but she knew just what I meant.
She knows what “raisin” means, too. I eat raisin bran, of one kind or another, quite a bit. And, when I do, I always feed Hilda a raisin. So, now, in the morning, if she’s got her nose pressed against the glass watching for tree-rodent interlopers in our yard, I ask her if she wants her raisin. She always comes over and sits down like I make her do for her treats. Then, she gently takes it out of my fingers with her little, soft, black, puppy lips and happily chews it up.
She’s a good dog, and, somedays, that’s the best a guy can hope for.
