My Cassie. Nine-plus years and 75-plus pounds of Golden Retriever love. She's a senior citizen, by doggie standards. But sometimes . . . sometimes she acts like a 9-month-old.
Last night, the boy was in bed and I was doing my before-sleep canvassing of the house: locking doors, shutting off lights. Cass was nowhere to be seen, though. I called her, but she didn't come and I immediately began to worry. She always comes when called, so I had a little heart skip, imagining she was sick somewhere in the house (after all, she isn't getting any younger).
I went to the back door and looked outside. About then, the smell hit: musty dog. She was standing outside the doggie door, hesitant to come in, because she was soaking wet. Apparently, she decided to run in the sprinklers. She couldn't have been any wetter if I'd thrown her in a lake. I coaxed her in and she proceeded to snort happily, wag wildly and flop all over the carpet, rubbing off the excess water.
Some people, people much more fastidious than I am, would have been angry that a wet animal was drying off on the floor. But I was simply happy that she was alright. And as I laughed, she got even more excited.
I took a picture that I'll have to post.
4 comments:
Awwwww. Cassie!
You know my theory on all things dog!
I was recently in a gift shop in Big Bear and saw two signs that sort of fit the bill:
1) "If you don't want dog hair on your clothes, get off my furniture."
2) "Everything tastes better with dog hair."
Gross maybe, but they add so much to your life, the inconveniences are worth it!
This is my life:
If you don't want dog hair on your clothes, get off my furniture, get out of my car and don't hug me, either.
And for God's sake, don't wear black.
There's nothing in the world friendlier than a wet dog.
So true.
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