This is our dog, Nick.
I was thinking this morning. I'm really glad to have a dog, especially this one. He's a really great dog. He obeys better than my kids do. He knows his place in the family -dead last- and he's great with that. I don't have to cook for him (which I hate). I don't have to drive him around or ferry his friends to and from footballs games, practices, etc. I've never had to wait up at night for him to come home. He doesn't mind being chained up in the back yard, in fact he sits there nicely waiting for you to fasten the chain to his collar. He barks only when he's excited and never talks back. When he wants something he'll put his head on my lap and then lead me to the back door or his food dish. His needs are clear, simple and easy to accommodate. When I come home he greets me with enthusiasm and excitement. Some days he's the most friendly face I see. When I talk he listens and doesn't tell me what to do. He trusts that I can take care of things.
So what if he stinks a bit (sometimes a lot). So what if there is dog hair ALL OVER the floor, the couch, the chair, clogging the vacuum, etc. So what if his food attracts ants. So what if there is dog slobber on my back door. So what if he won't leave Charissa's dog, Ginger, alone (he's a boy dog, she's a girl dog, it's what dogs do). So what.
I like my dog. But EVEN BETTER he likes me!