3) The rule about no sitting on furniture evaporated the instant Pup jumped on the sofa next to you and rested her weary doggie head on your lap. The couch is several years old anyway, you rationalise. And your house isn't a museum.
4) Ditto the rule about no sleeping in your bed. Doggie's whining at the door. He wants in. Maybe just this once - and now, maybe every night. It's getting colder, after all. Let's call it practicality - an extra heating source requiring no electricity and no sloshy water bottle. That dog house you bought three years ago, thinking the pooch would need shelter while occasionally dozing outside? Never used.
5) You've reversed your stance about giving Pup extra treats, i.e., human food. Whereas you once let the dog gobble a few scraps from your own dinner to curry favour, you're now so concerned about prolonging Pup's life, you're all about tough love. You measure your dog's waist to make sure she still has one, because your veterinarian says fur children are not meant to resemble beer barrels.
6) You search for Doggie when she's not in the same room. Where could she be? Shouldn't she be sleeping at my feet? Does she need anything? Is she happy? You find her snoozing on your daughter's bed. You're jealous because you suspect your daughter is Doggie's favourite. The fact Doggie howls when parted from Daughter does nothing to ease your mind. You're terrified Daughter may ask to take Doggie when she leaves the nest. You make a mental note to keep Daughter in the nest so you can keep Doggie, too.
7) You've forgiven Pup for things that would land your children in the dog house (the one he never uses): chewing door frames; chewing carpet; chewing lamp cords; chewing shoes… You repaint the door frame, tell yourself the carpet is old, anyways, buy new lamps and figure Pup chews your shoes because he adores your scent and is trying to show how bonded he is to you. You buy a heap of chew sticks. You could scold Pup when you find evidence of his crimes, but it's hours after the fact, and he wouldn't understand. He'd just cock his head and mesmerise you with his round, chocolate eyes that say, "Huh? I dunno. Can we go for a walk?"
8) The whole family gathers around Doggie like he's a newly-born Prince of Wales. He may not have the pedigree or dosh of a prince, but Doggie has royal charm. You watch Doggie sleep, his cow-print belly rising and falling. Any display of that adorable belly results in a rub. Doggie looks into your eyes as if to say, "Thank you. That's wonderful. Keep going…" The mutt has three nicknames and a song dedicated to him.
Just a couple more days, my children, before you're back to school. Ally and I will wave goodbye and continue to nurture our mother/dog bond. The days are long but the years are short.