Elsa and I hit up the dog park this morning and per usual, she spent about ten minutes playing with the other dogs and the next hour and half provoking me to play fetch with her.  Elsa and I…we’re very close.  She follows me into the bathroom and sits patiently by the tub while I shower.  She sleeps, not at the foot of the bed, but nestled into the curve of my neck or on top of my head.  When I come home from work I’m simply not allowed to greet anyone else until she is done rubbing her face all over mine.  Though I encourage her to tangle with the others at the park, she just isn’t a dog’s dog.  She’s my dog.

I know everyone has a different relationship with their dog though.  My mom for instance, is left with the family YorkiePoo since all of her children have moved out, and the two of them are like hilarious roommates.  Pookie wants mostly to be left alone, while my Mom is convinced the dog is conspiring to drive her out of her mind.  But when it comes down to it, they consider eachother decent company, and if one of them was gone, the other would surely miss her.

Then there are poor relationships.  My former boss has a Rottweiler that she refers to as “an outdoor dog,” meaning the poor thing spends the majority of her day in the backyard by herself, probably bored and lonesome.  Having worked under this woman for as long as I did, and her being the kind of person who eschews all things girly, I don’t believe she enjoys her dog and probably only got this one so she could tell people she owns a Rottweiler.

So what’s your story? I’d love to hear what your dog is to you.

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