Dear Rugby, our newest beagle:
It is your one year birthday, Ruggers. We love you so much. You have turned Riley into a puppy again and your personality fits perfectly with his. Even though you irritate the living shit out of him, he is more playful than he has been in years.
Your face is irrisistable, especially when you look up at us with those big brown eyes and turn your head to the side, like, "who me?"
Your relationship with Brenna, the youngest of the girls, is the most precious thing in the world. The minute you hear her voice, you start freaking out, wagging your tail and looking around to see where your best buddy is. It is a mutual admiration society, believe me. She will play hours with you, either throwing you the tennis ball, chasing you around the house (a game I love, by the way), or making you be her guard that sits outside of her fort and keeps an eye out for pirates. She loves just laying on the floor with you, something none of the rest of us can stomach, which brings me to the not so great part you have brought to our lives.....your smell.
Oh, how you love your surroundings out here in the country. You love it so much, you try to show your love by rolling yourself in every last dead, smelly thing on our entire 10 acres. Whether it be dead deer, rabbits, a pile of crap from any animal, dead fish from the pond, rotten garbage, you name it, you love everything so much, you just have to rub all over it to show your affection. This causes quite a stir when you decide it's time to come back into the house to go to bed. Our mudroom, your bedroom, is almost unbearable to even walk through this time of year because everything that died over the winter? You are reacquainting yourself with them as a final show of affection. You stink to high heaven.
We bathe you every other day and wash all your doggie beds and blankets, but to no avail. It's almost like you prefer the smell of rotting carcass to the lovely smell of the coconut-mango puppy shampoo. After your bath, we love you and hug you and kiss all over you and sniff in the final goodness out of your coat, knowing that as soon as that door opens, it's back to dead-ville.
Last night we realized it is true love between you and Brenna. As we came downstairs to tuck her in and say goodnight, there you were, under her covers with your head on her pillow right next to hers. We could smell you from the door, but she just laid there next to you with her arm around your neck, not a care in the world and as we walked in, you looked up at us, turned your head sideways with those big brown eyes as if to say, "Who me? I don't smell anything."
Thursday, April 03, 2008
April Letters - #3
Posted by Angie at 8:45 PM
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3 comments:
Poor baby with a cone on! My dog had one for awhile, and she would bonk us in the shins.
Our dog does this too but we don't wash her (she just will not allow it!) and now I feel better about it. The smell goes away by the end of the day. But sleeping with it? Now that IS love! My son is listening to your India Arie song right now and loving it. Love that. :)
what a sweet letter.
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