Dogs are family

Most of us grew up with a family pet that probably determined our relationships with our animals as adults.

For me, it was Daisy the mutt. My mom adopted her from the pound prior to marrying my daddy. My dad says they met when Daisy tinkled on his shoe at the veterinary office. He was ready to yell at the owner of that dog until he saw a pretty red-head at the end of the leash.

That red-head was my mom. And she is pretty! She and Daisy were dear friends to one another.

Mom said that when she adopted Daisy she was so sick that she spent more than a month at the vet’s office. But she lived a long, good life. She was my parent’s first-born…

I guess that made me her little sister. My parents say that Daisy would sleep by my crib and check on me all the time when I was a baby.

I remember playing with her in our yard, she would let us chase her and pet her and love her. And apparently this photo also shows that Daisy let me pull her hair. She was such a sweet dog. As my girlfriend Susan would say, “She wouldn’t bite a biscuit.”

And my parents loved me just as much as they loved my big sister. Daisy was a part of our family, I have very vivid memories of Daisy in my childhood.

So I guess the relationship I’ve grown into with animals is that they are my family. My husband and I would love to have children (the human kind), but until that happens my canine children make me laugh every day. They let me love them and brighten our days regularly.

I had Nigel before I met my husband. J and I met through an online dating service (cheezy I know…but it worked!). We had talked for a couple of weeks, and I had a really good feeling about this guy. He said, “I wanna pick you up at your house, the ol’ fashion way. If this goes where I hope it goes, I wanna be able to tell my kids that I treated their mom like a lady.” I was a sucker and let him come to my home to pick me up for dinner.

He walked in the house, Nigel barked at him for about 30 seconds, then J kneeled to the floor to let Nigel get to know him. Only after he had calmed my neurotic wiener dog did he finally address me with a hug and kiss on the cheek, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. You’re even prettier than your pick-churs.” (If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ll know that my husband says pictures very funny).

After our dinner out we walked the dog together. It was a cold December evening in Nashville, and Nigel loved being on a walk with a new person…so he took his sweet time finally doing his business. I apologized for it taking so long and my sweet husband replied (on our 1st date mind you), “It’s alright. This will just be one of them stories we’ll remember years from now that just makes us love Nigel even more.”

I am pretty sure he loved Nigel first, and I just came with the dog. But either way, I guess I owe Nigel a big thank you.

I’m off to get a doggy bone for my little cupid…


This entry was published on October 7, 2010 at 12:19 pm and is filed under Squawkings. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

6 thoughts on “Dogs are family

  1. Dogs are kids! Plain and simple! Amen!

  2. Cute story! I always enjoy the dynamic between you and your husband. Also, he seems like such an old-fashioned gentleman. Be still my heart!

    Your new camera is doing a great job taking pick-churs! That one of Nigel is so clear and the background is perfectly blurred. 🙂

    Have you ever posted a pic of your hubby? If so, I must’ve missed it. Or maybe he’s blog-shy and doesn’t want to have his picture on the blog…I don’t even give my husband a chance to say no… 😉

    • He’s blog shy… I have tried a couple of time to talk him into letting put up a funny photo and he always asks me not to. I have to oblige bc I hate photos of me and don’t want retribution (spelling?)…
      Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

  3. I love your dog stories. We call Ziggy our son, too. He’s also the baby. Our daughter refers to him as “my little brother” and our grandkids call him Uncle Ziggy. He doesn’t know he’s a D-O-G. He thinks he’s a boy. We took him to a dog park twice, but he wouldn’t play with the other dogs. Instead, he went from blanket to blanket visiting the other people. When another dog tries to greet him by sniffing his backside, he seems genuinely startled every time. He even freaks a little. I know he’s thinking, “Hey, you filthy dog! What do you think you’re doing?” He’s 11 now, and we call him our cranky, stinky old man, but I couldn’t love him more. He’s our baby.

  4. Hey, you look like your mom. When I was little, we only had “hunting” dogs. We weren’t really supposed to play with them and stuff so they would know that my dad was in charge. By the time Kandi came along, Dad didn’t hunt as much, so she got to play and bond with the dogs more than the rest of us.

    I love the picture of Nigel – although he kind of looks like he is ready to cry. I love it that you met your husband sort of similar to how I met mine. I think you should blog a longer version of your courtship for us!!! He seems super sweet.

  5. Pat Luther on said:

    OMG! I remember Daisy and even that chair your Mom is sitting in. I even remember when your Dad had hair like in the picture. You’re right, our dogs are part of our family, although I bet my dog is the only one that has his own dog. When Ashley got married and took Grizzy with her to her new home she was worried that Bruno would be lonely since he had been around Grizzy all of his life. Hence, Herbie the Love Pug! After I lost my last Pug I swore I would never have another dog and here we are with two. Gotta love ’em. They keep me company all day while Papa is at work, they know when I’m having a bad day and never leave my side, but most of all it’s the unconditional love. If I’m gone for 5 minutes or 5 hours they are still happy to see me. I love my boys!

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