I can admit it – I’m ridiculous when it comes to these dogs. I mean, Gracie eats anything that’s not nailed down and Phoebe can be as jealous as a toddler. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter what havoc these guys wreck. I’m like a cult member who’s drunk the Kool Aid. Dogs Rule.
And yet, when I look around this house and see the damage they’ve done…well, there are days it’s a miracle I haven’t thrown them out the front door and said good riddance.
Some moments are etched indelibly on my memory. The day I looked at BrightSide and knew, way down in my bones, that I loved him. The morning I fell into T-man’s liquid brown eyes and discovered an entirely different kind of love. The evening I held Bear for the first time and realized I was equal parts enthralled and terrified by this tiny being.
And then there are times when your dog leaps out the car window like superman.
Oh, Gracie…our sweet, adorable, scampish, bullheaded, never-met-a-thing-she-didn’t-want-to-eat Gracie.
If you’re a long time reader, you know what’s coming. If you’re new to RFTM, welcome aboard the Gracie crazy train. We keep a running tally of her dietary hijinks around here. No embellishment necessary.
Our pretty, peculiar, puzzling, and perpetually attention seeking Phoebe…
If ever there were an example of a dog who doesn’t fit the mold, our Phoebe is it.
Okay, so who else has been totally bummed out by the last two days at RFTM? Trust me, my name’s at the top of that list. Thank you for sticking with me – for reading, for adding your thoughts, for the words of encouragement – it’s helped. Not made-it-all-magically-delicious helped, but helped nonetheless.
So can we please, for the love of all things holy, shift gears into something less doom and gloom? (“Sure! Why not!” says the quietly chirpy voice in my head.)
“Dogs die. But dogs live, too. Right up until they die, they live. They live brave, beautiful lives. They protect their families. And love us. And make our lives a little brighter. And they don’t waste time being afraid of tomorrow.”
– Dan Gemeinhart
It’s not uncommon to hear cries of “GRACIE!!” echoing through the house at all hours of the day. Morning, noon, evening – it depends on when her scamp level is at its highest, and then you just have to pray any damage inflicted is relatively contained.
Let’s just say some days that works out better than others.
“Dogs possess a quality that’s rare among humans — the ability to make you feel valued just by being you — and it was something of a miracle to me to be on the receiving end of all that acceptance. The dog didn’t care what I looked like, or what I did for a living, or what a train wreck of a life I’d led before I got her, or what we did from day to day. She just wanted to be with me, and that awareness gave me a singular sensation of delight. I kept her in a crate at night until she was housebroken, and in the mornings I’d let her up onto the bed with me. She’d writhe with joy at that. She’d wag her tail and squirm all over me, lick my neck and face and eyes and ears, get her paws all tangled in my braid, and I’d just lie there, and I’d feel those oceans of loss from my past ebbing back, ebbing away, and I’d hear myself laugh out loud.”
– Caroline Knapp
