Here’s the thing, Melvin can screw-up and I take one look at him and think ‘it’s OK my love, you’re adorable, I forgive you’. Jake screws-up and I take one look at his nodding, bobbley head looking up at me and I think ‘good God, you’re hysterical!’ and immediately, he is forgiven also.
My relationship with each dog is very different. The love is the same but they are each, obviously, at different train stations on the track of my life. I’ll label my connection with Jake as, complex. We are still figuring it all out. He makes me laugh as often as he makes me add something to the list of things we need to work on.
Melvin, well he just makes me sigh. He is comfort. He is love. He’s has had an impact on my life that words have a hard time conveying
Not all mornings go smoothly. It seems some mornings the dogs think I have infinite time to walk them (if only) when in reality I have allotted plenty of time for them to exercise and ‘to go’. Still, for whatever reason, there are days we return home without finishing that last part. Even after 30-40 minutes. So then we go into the backyard, where I plead with one or both of them to GO. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, GO OUTSIDE AND NOT INSIDE! Verbally I do this, pleading, like a crazy person.
It’s on those mornings, I understand the phrase ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’. Thus today, I’m posting photos of them looking adorable, to remind myself how much I love them.
I have the most wonderful mom. She is the reason I love deeply, the reason I not only notice the underdog, but champion that puppy. She taught me to love unconditionally, no matter how hard it seemed, that it was the only way. She is beautiful, funny, smart, outgoing and love personified. She is my best friend.
My mother comes from Bulgarian decent. She’s got skin that can tan easily and in the winter, she still has this great darker color. I did not get this genetic factor from her. In fact, I may have the whitest skin (with red undertones) that you have ever seen. Growing up, no one thought she was my mother. My friends all thought she was Hawaiian and that I was adopted. Add to that, she’s always looked young. All my teachers thought she was my sister and would ask to see ID when she came for parent/teacher conferences. All of the adoption and sister theories annoyed the hell out of me, until the day came that someone said “you look just like your mother”, and I thought, wow. That means I’m beautiful.
Happy Mother’s day to all! Mothers of the two-legged, mothers to the four-legged, mothers to the tri-legged! It doesn’t matter the number of legs, all that matters is that you are love. And loved.