Pickles & Dimes

It’s been one year since we walked into that Petco to pick up some cat food and fell in love with your sad brown eyes, which called to us louder than any dog’s bark. One year since dealing with a number of vet visits during your first few days, of hearing the phone ring and bursting into tears at Jason’s silence on the other end because he couldn’t repeat the words the vet had told him, words that said you might die.

It’s been one year since we nursed you back to health by feeding you special food and hiding your medicine in cheese and taking shortened walks because of your pneumonia-related coughing, you looking apologetic as you needed to sit and rest.

One year since the elation that you were better, your lungs were healed, you were healthy. Seeing you figure out how to play, run, fetch, chase. Seeing your personality emerge.

One year since we realized our 6-foot-tall fence couldn’t contain you, the dog who barely reaches our kneecaps. Who would heed no man if there was a taunting squirrel or reckless rabbit in the equation.

It’s been one year since I spent two weeks patiently asking you to shake, tapping your leg and gently pulling it up while you stared blankly at me. And then one day, you triumphantly thrust your paw at me, grinning.

During this year, you’ve gone to training class and learned how to sit, shake, lay (that one took awhile) and leave it. We’ll need another year to completely master stay, roll over, come and no barking.

It’s been a year of being fearful around new people and barking at everyone who comes to the house, even if you’ve met them before. A year of being wary around men, growling and barking and looking ferocious. But also a year of letting kids hug you and pet you and sit by you and walk around dangling delicious scraps of food from their hands right at eye level.

It’s been a year of invading Sunny’s personal space and acting confused when she retreats to the top of the refrigerator. A year of chasing Abby until she figured, “I’m too old for this crap,” and started chasing you.

A year of Frito-smelling paws, silky wrinkled brow furrows, soft-belly snuggling: under the covers, under our arms, in our laps. Watching us play cribbage, your snout on my leg until we finish and get your special blanket, the one that means you can hop up on the couch into my lap. A year full of one of my favorite moments: you jumping up, circling in my lap and plopping down with a satisfied sigh.

A year of camping trips, Houdini-ing out of your harness, hiking, acting like the air mattress is yours and yours alone, stealing people’s camping chairs, and napping on anything other than the ground.

A year of us laughing at your geriatric groans and moans, your dreaming yips, your vocalized yawns, your heavy-on-the-zzzzzz’s snores, your “Hey! What are you doing?!?” barks when we remove your blanket from your crate for washing.

A year of playing games with you, asking three questions every night after you eat, two of them being things you’d never want to do, like, “Do you want to…balance the checkbook? Do you want to…play backgammon?”And then seeing you get all bouncy and excited when we ask the right question, the one you’ve been waiting for all along: “Do you want to… go outside?”

A year of singing the same song to you every night: Shorty, Shorty, you’re a good dog. You like to go for walks and you like to jog. Shorty, Shorty, you’re a good boy, you make us laugh and fill us with joy.

A year of watching you grow sleepy during that song and automatically retreating to your crate, curling up in your fleece blanket that you’ve arranged just so, and uttering a loud yawn before I finish the last few words.

A year of “Good night, buddy. Sleep well. Sweet dreams. We love you. You’re a good boy,” as we turn out the light.

A year of making us laugh every single day, whether you’re hopping into the laundry basket to snuggle with the comforter or doing your crocodile impression in the mornings, where you creak open your jaw and let us put our hands in your mouth while you s-l-o-w-l-y close it.

A year of living with and loving such a wonderful, affectionate, cute, good dog.