The Dog Rules
No, really
When my wife goes home to Hawaii for two weeks every year and then to her sister’s in Missouri for a week, she leaves me a long list of to-do’s. Most of the lists have quite a bit of dust on them. As she gives me the to-do list I tell her I’ll get:
No black eyes yet or fat lips. And she always comes home again. My favorite list, and by favorite I mean the one that gives me the most laughs, is the doggie to-do list or, in her words, the poopie baby list. The Neosporin Queen makes veterinarians look like first year students. We’re down to one poopie baby now, Sachiko, but this is what it used to be like with two dogs, Toby and Yoshi, and then three when Yukio came along.
Needless to say, we had riotous fun for three weeks every year. Roadtrips to 7–11 for ice cream, extra snacks, lounging about in front of the tube eating potato chips, scratching, yawning, watching Rin Tin Tin reruns and cheering on Lassie. The cat stayed low during these halcyon days.
Alas, all good things must end. Soon it was back to the grind. Two 1-1/2 mile walks a day, fresh water with every meal, exactly two cups of food no more, no less, all manner of supplements, no eating grass 😥
And no more sleeping on the edge of the bed with 265 pounds of dogs licking, snoring, kicking, and dreaming.
But, I miss the big poopie babies and all the scratching, licking, snoring, and dreaming that came with them. Even the landmines I would happily pick up again 💩💩💩
All I can say is, there’d better be dogs in heaven 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 I want all of them back. Rest in Peace, Smoky, Michiko, Cassie, Misty, Toby, Yoshi, and Yukio.
