The Importance of Being Waggly
He is hardworking (dropped food is no match for him),
generous…sort of (‘Here’s my tennis ball..see? I’ll let you have it – oh wait, no, I want it back’),
He is snaggle-toothed and has questionable breath sometimes but I love him.
He has an unshakable and irrational fear of Andrew’s Grandpa, the vacuum and having his toenails clipped but I love him.
He can track mud in the house, pull on his leash even when I’m sprinting and immediately rip the heart out of any squeaky toy I give him…but I love him.
He may have a heart murmur and a leaky mitral valve between his left ventricle and atrium. He may have knee joints inflamed to the point that he can’t get up on his own. He may require weekly laser treatments and intramuscular injections to restore those joints and alleviate the pain. And all that may cost more than our mortgage this month.
But I don’t care.
I will tighten my belt as much as I have to.
So long as that waggly little body can still waggle.