Dogs Rule.

Woke up the other day to one of those Facebook memories. 

Sometimes they bring a smile to my face. Sometimes they make me nostalgic. But more often than not they remind me of how fat I was and continue to be. 

Fuck you Facebook. 

The photo above served to remind me of the day we brought Lucy into the family and rescued her from the local Adopt & Shop. But let's be clear, if we hadn't "rescued" Lucy, there were 15 families right behind us that would have. Beautiful, mild mannered Retriever/Shepherd mixes are the first to go.

I'm pretty sure I heard some bratty little girl screaming at her parents, "But I wanted that dog."

Too bad. Get a job kid.

Lucy was very skittish at first and refused to go in our backyard. Probably because her previous family, a single mother and two monstrous kids, kept her outside 24/7. And on the rare occasions where she was let in, it was rumored the kids would beat up on her.

But, in less than a week, that kind of doggie psychosis vanished. I won her trust with constant walks and rigorous training. Dogs needs structure. And Lucy loves structure. And bacon flavored meat treats. Can you blame her for that?

Lucy is a woolly creature of habit:

Wake up at 4 AM, leave her bed, come upstairs and whine to be petted.

Sleep by my side of the bed, never in the bed, until 7 AM, run downstairs to be fed, run back upstairs and whine to be petted.

Wait until I wake up and follow me around every waking minute of the whole damn day.

To be clear, this pandemic is her heaven.

To be extra clear, I don't understand the attraction. No one in my family or circle of friends would want to be with me 24/7. Hell, there are many self-loathing moments when I don't want to be near me and wish I could get away from this bloviating, glib wiseass.

But I love her. And she unreasonably, loves me.

That's not to say I understand her completely. Or that she doesn't frustrate me. 

And those of you who walk dogs will surely concur on this matter. 

Why, oh why, does a 10 minute walk around the neighborhood have to turn into a half hour let's-solve-the-murder-mystery tour? Lucy has a hardwired need to sniff every tree trunk, every bush, and every spot of crabgrass she comes in contact with. 

She's the Sherlock Holmes of Shepherd mixes.

An old man in the neighborhood was walking by and noticed her extra curious nature. He proffered up the theory that the morning walk for dogs was like their opportunity to "read the newspaper." He told me Lucy was forming a mental picture in her mind of the dogs that had been here, what they were eating and even, possibly, their attitudes towards other dogs.

That made a lot of sense.

But I just want her to take a shit already. 

I can read the newspaper and throw some meat in the bowl at the same time, why can't Lucy?