I Love My Dog
edit: all the below is still true although I woke up this morning to find that in the middle of the night, when it was snowing, when he was supposedly outside relieving himself (he couldn't have been out there more than 15 minutes), Bucky made time to make a nest in my daffodils and sweetpea sprouts, which have already been dealing with freezing weather. The sweetpeas are pretty much toast. The daffodils have a fighting chance. If they fight. but ...
I love his big self. His furry flanks. His fluffy ruff. His significant rump. His totality of a tail.
I love burying my face in his side when he's stretched out. When he growls low, his dog purr.
Also he sleeps on the floor on my side of the bed.
I love when he plays hand. He makes a big show of baring his teeth and taking my whole hand in his mouth. And closing his jaw gently down on it. And then quickly releasing it and kissing me. And sometimes after I've brushed him, he grooms me back with tiny, soft repetitive bites.
When he and Jim pick me up from school, he grins and wags his tail and hands me the paw.
He's been my dog for nearly two years of his eight year life ... we are so lucky to have him.
I love my dog.