My Son is a Dog.

There are a lot of things I just don’t understand.Bud

How a plane gets off the ground.  Microwaves.  The unbelievably cold temperature inside of movie theaters.  Why every pencil I’ve ever used is a #2.

How copiers work.  The complex engineering system known as an intercom (I have no idea which button to push).

And last but not least, mandated testing.

Oh, and I almost forgot… junior high boys.

But my greatest unsolved mystery is why humans can’t get along with each other, but they are capable of falling in love with other species.

I’m talking about dogs.

We love them.

At least most of us love them.

All the people I trust love them (I just don’t get you cat people).

We absolutely love these animals  and they walk on four legs and have brains the size of golf balls. 

They also use our yards as restrooms (when you think about it, this isn’t really socially acceptable).

They tear stuff up that’s not theirs (someone owes me 12 bucks for my shredded undies).

We even overlook the fact they seem to have a dysfunctional relationship with the UPS guy and his big brown truck (Buddy and that driver really need some counseling).

They eat us out of house and home and then belch about it.

If you really think about it, they’re sort of disgusting (breath… bad).

And yet we talk to them like they understand.

We spend hours petting them and taking care of their every want and need.

We exercise them when we don’t have time to take care of ourselves.

We hold them like babies (not me and Buddy… other crazies).

We even treat them better than our own children (sorry, Evil Spawn).

And they are dogs.


Not humans.


We seem to get along better with them than we do with our relatives, coworkers, or neighbors.

They become the center of our lives within minutes of meeting them.

Now, if you are a dog person all of this makes perfect sense.  If you aren’t a dog person, you probably think I’m weird.

But I don’t care.

Nor do I have the time to convince you Buddy the Dog and I have a special bond you will never understand.

Plus, I have to go.

He needs his belly scratched and you have no idea how grumpy he can get when his belly is itchy.

Maybe I should be an administrator of an animal school.

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Guess Who Just Won the Dog Lottery?

Our family has expanded by one. dscn2518

Buddy the Dog is now living in our house. Or I am now living in Buddy’s house. I can’t decide which one is true (that is a lie… I know exactly which one it is).

It is now Buddy’s house. For the next 15 years, I am living under his roof by his rules.

Don’t worry, I am flexible and will adjust.

I will just do what Bud wants and try to keep my nose clean.

Meanwhile he seems to be adjusting to his new home.

He worked in a good hour nap in the truck on the way home. It took him about 8 seconds before he settled in for a long snooze.

We did wake him up long enough to go in the pet store. Turns out he is a chick magnet. Girls came from all over to slobber on him. Or vice versa.

When we got home he felt comfortable enough to go downstairs (when I carried him) and enjoy some Nickelodeon on our big screen TV. Turns out the Mancave is
now Bud’s Room. img_1356

It has now been almost 24 hours of listening to my daughter giggle at his every move.

I have a feeling this is what it will be like when she first starts dating. Lots of fawning, waiting on him hand and foot, laughing all the time, letting him watch my TV, thinking he can do no wrong… not sure I am looking forward to any of this.

Well I have at least 8 years to dread that.

Presently, I have other troubles.

Buddy the Dog has won the lottery. He has left the show ring for the life of luxury. Doesn’t seem to miss the kennel in the least.

He has won and I have the feeling I may have lost.

I feel like I need to win a lottery to pay for all of his toys, crates, collars, leashes, food, treats, and beds.

The pecking order has changed.

I am not sure where I rank, but I am pretty sure it’s not first.

Welcome home Buddy. If you need anything, just let me know (he is still struggling with changing the channels by himself).

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