He’s always home for you, he’s not too big, not too skinny and gives a shit about how bad you look. A breath out of his mouth can take you to hell and back. When the world’s pissed at me, he looks up with his big brownish green eyes that tell me I am the best. He’s my yellow Labrador. Aged 7 yrs and counting. He’s the cutest thing I’ve come in contact with since I saw baby polar bears (on TV). He’s chubby, clumsy, handsome and lazy. In a way just perfect for me. Unfortunately, one consequence of marriage: you get a home away from home. In my case, my new home’s a few thousand miles away (by air). And everyday that I talk to my folks back home, I make sure Clipper (my lab) is nestled safely in the comfort of home and family.
Today I have my new best friend, my husband who, thank god, loves my dog. I make sure he does by constantly asking him the name of the worlds most awesome dog (and amazingly he says Clipper). I don’t know how my husband puts up with my madness but that’s a story for another day.
My dog, like me, has different moods and expressions based on how the day is going. Mostly you’ll find him in sleeping poses and on occasion he likes to bark when people walk past though he reserves his energy for his afternoon siesta.
When it rains, you would think he’d scoot for cover (to his kennel) but no, instead he sits in the rain and waits for one of us to get him inside the house. He’s intelligent alright. All of us love him and his silly antics and as my dad says ‘drama’ but mostly we just know he’s family to us. He’s our dog.
I love you my big fuzzy yellow dog. You’re my best friend and I miss you so much…