I'm pretty sure you have a sense of humor. I suspect that over the last eight years, you've had some good belly laughs over some of the things we've been through with Lilac. As a matter of fact, I have to wonder if you sent her here to us for your own amusement.
First, there's that penchant she has for thievery. When she first came to us, it was mainly trash can raids that were harmless. That night when she stole all the chili cook off taste cups out of the trash while all of hubby's family was in the basement was an extra special memory that we'll cherish, though. Dogs and chili do not mix. Oh, how you must have laughed first as we cleaned up hoping nobody would come upstairs to the mess and then as we tried to sleep through vapors that probably had our whole village glowing nuclear green from the heavens!
Of course, there's that sweet habit she has for showing her appreciation for a good meal, too. She walks up to us with that sweet adoring expression before belching in our faces like a truck driver. We fall for it every darned time, too! I wonder how many times you've slapped your knee over that one.
We also have the secret thrill she gets from chewing up bits of paper, or even magazines, on the occasions when she's suffering a fit of pique, too. My favorite was the time she chewed the little piece of paper that had those tiny extra elastic strings for my nook cover attached. Did you laugh until you cried when I had to extract them since they didn't quite make it all the way through? I have to say, I'm still not too amused by that one myself. I thought at some point she'd grow out of that habit, but this happened just a month ago.
Then we have that habit she has of waking us up at 3:30 in the morning. Has that joke not gotten old after two years? I mean, I could laugh about it back when it was just half an hour before the alarm went off, but we have to get up and go to work. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation that keeps me from seeing how funny that is.
Along with that, we have the random barking. Didn't you get the memo we got from the adoption group about how Greyhounds don't bark? I'm trying my best to keep her happy, but it's hard to tell the "fluff my bed appropriately" bark from the "I need to go outside NOW" bark and the "move the fan two centimeters to the left" bark. They sound a lot alike and are often barked from the same position in the living room. Does it amuse you to see me jumping through her hoops to make her happy?
Anyway, I'm happy that we've been able to provide all these years of entertainment for you. It's been worth it to share the sweet moments in life with her. I'd forgive her anything when she gives me that devil may care look or presses her head to my chest or wraps around my neck and squeezes. I freely admit that I've become a better person by sharing these years with her. I have to be more patient and compassionate than I was when she came here. I'm just asking for one thing. You know she's getting pretty long in the tooth. She's a wise elder in Greyhound years. I'd like to wrap her in bubble wrap and protect her from everything in the world, but she's still a bossy and independent old lady. Please, one of these days when the time comes, let her just go to sleep one night and not wake up. I just don't have the heart to send her into the gentle sleep on my own. I think that's a fair trade off for all the amusement we've given you over the years.
Lilac's Human Servant
We'd like to send our sincere condolences out to our friend Guinness' dad. He lost his battle with stomach cancer over the weekend, and really made me think about how short our time of stewardship is with our beloved canine companions. Our dogs would all be perfect if they'd just live forever, or at least as long as we do.