I woke today with my Yorkshire Terrier standing on my back, playfully barking at her buddy D.J. Then off she goes to chase him through the house. It's their game. They have fun circling through the breakfast nook, kitchen down the hall and into the Family Room. Back again, she flies back up on the bed, takes her stand in the middle of my back and barks again. I can't stifle my grin. I love my dogs. My nieces and nephews call me the dog lady of South Beaver Township. I happen to like the title. It suits me.
In the last couple of years I have found that I enjoy the company of my dogs more than most people. Is that wrong? Doesn't feel wrong. They love me, unconditionally. When I'm in a bad mood they know to keep out from under foot. When I'm not they smother me with kisses and snuggle up with me. It is a good feeling to be covered in puppy dogs. My niece tells me I could turn into one of those people that you see on TV - film at 11 they say. The kind that has a little path through their house with papers and trash piled up all over and filled with dogs. I ponder this and then with a smile I reply, "It could happen." We both laugh. But, it could happen. I love animals. I can't afford horses now - they cost too much to maintain. I can afford dogs.
We have our ritual at night. We all head for the bedroom. Butch closes the door, Nipzy and Fibber Magee wait on the far side of the bed. Butch tosses Gyro up on the bed. He's the Mexican - our Chihuahua. He trots to the top of the bed, noses the covers up and dives under. I crawl in, assume my position. Pumpkin jumps up on the bed. Then Butch turns off the light and crawls in. Now Fibber jumps up and snuggles up against my back. Gyro warms my front as he snuggles up against my belly. Pumpkin finds her spot at the foot of the bed. Nipzy loudly plops down on her bed I made for her. She's too fat, too big and too stiff to jump on the bed by herself. She is satisfied to find her place at the side of the bed. Her cushion covered with a nice warm fleece blanket. We drift off to sleep. Covered in puppies. Life don't get no better than that. The pack. Our furry kids.
Nothing gets by them though. They hear every little creak and the tiniest nose will wake them. They perk up their ears. Listen intently - trying to determine if that sound requires a full bark dog alert or just a little growl. Nipzy grumbles in her deep throated way. Gyro gives a yip and they're off. Full dog alert! Yapping and barking like there is an intruder at bay. Who would not run at this comotion?
I had a telemarketer call and try to sell us a security system. I laughed and told him, "We have five dogs, we don't need a security system!" They bark at the dogs on TV. God help us if someone knocks on a door on TV. How dare those people take our trash! Hey - Who said you could drive on the road in front of our house? They keep a close watch. It can be maddening, it can be funny. Either way, it is what it is and we enjoy it.
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