Sonny Boy Turns 1 (sort of)

Well hey.  It's been awhile, yeah?  Quite a bit has changed since last I wrote, the most significant being the size of my belly.  A little someone is on their way to join the husband, the pooch, and me at the end of January.  As a result, I spent the entire summer and then some on the couch wanting KFC and Ginger Ale. (Neither of which helped that sensation we erroneously call "morning" sickness.  I'm bitter about that little nickname.)

But, before I attempt any sort of major "catch-up" from the summer's events, we need to celebrate Sonny Boy.  August 24th marked our first full year together.  The title of this post is misleading, I know.  He is not in fact one year old.  More like four or something.  But we have had him for a good year (and then some since, of course, I'm very behind in all of this documenting stuff).

So I made some homemade dog treats shaped like bones, his name etched in each one, and bought him a special party hat just for dogs, and we decorated the house with squirrels and cats and invited all of his little neighborhood friends over to celebrate this pooch we love so much.

Yep, totally lying.  Again, this living for two thing has really put me under, so no homemade dog treats or friends over even for our special guy.  Instead he got a can of wet dog food hastily grabbed from the store and a candle that he had to watch melt into that wet dog food while I attempted to remember how to use my DSLR to capture pics of him wearing a homemade (at least something was) party hat that was slightly too snug around the neck.  We ended up with blurry pictures and a drooling, anxious dog.

But enough excuses.  Here are some pics of our little guy being such a good sport.

^^I'm sure I'm biased, but isn't that face--so exasperated with his silly humans--just adorable?  As we bustle about the house, Preston and I hear one another saying constantly from the other room, "You are just the cutest dog."  He really is.

My favorite thing right now is watching him grin foolishly after a great game with his rope or after a long walk.  He'll sit and stare at us with those big brown eyes and just pant and smile as if he's got it all.  And he pretty much does.  See below for some tidbits about this special pooch.

Sonny Boy Quick Facts:

Favorite words:  "walk," "ride," "treat," "go," "toy," "up," "Preston," "want to cuddle?"

Favorite habits: cuddling on our decorative pillows, watching for Preston to get home, eating grass, chasing squirrels, running with the kids in the 'hood, playing tug-of-war, licking his paws clean (which drives us crazy)

[Kelsi's] Favorite new trick: When he nudges my leg letting me know he needs to go out to the potty, I say, "Go find Preston!"  Works like a charm.  ;)

Sonny Boy at the Zoo

For the first and likely last time in his life, Sonny Boy went to the zoo.

The emus weren't so sure

the monkey and wallabies couldn't care less

the baby goat was curious

the singing dogs were happy as can be

and the otters immediately spotted a friend who could rival them in playfulness.

Sonny Boy was so good.  He didn't bark at a thing...except for a fake cow.  Go figure.

Why it is a good idea to bring a dog to the zoo:  all of the animals come to see you.

Why it is not a good idea:  really, I can't think of anything.

(okay, except that technically it's not allowed, probably because at any moment there could be a zoo-wide freak-out of epic proportions.  However, our experience was mild and pleasant.)

*Note: Dogs are allowed at the park that surrounds the zoo, but we weren't sure if they were allowed in. With no sign indicating anything, we decided to wander through the big gates.  We made it around the whole zoo before any of the workers decided to mention something.  It was totally NBD, so please don't worry.

This Guy, I Swear.

Lately, my heart is extra full of love for this little guy. What a catch.  Lately, when he's sitting next to me just chilling out, he'll lean over and give my hand a quick little lick.  Melts my heart.

This Dog of Mine

Let me tell you about this dog of mine.

He is the sweetest most frustrating thing on the planet.

His muddy paws are all over my white bedspread.

He barks like crazy at the bunnies next door.

He rolls around in the dirt right after he's bathed.

He takes off after squirrels and will hear no command.

He sneaks into our bedroom when we're not looking and cuddles with our off-limits pillows.

He climbs up on the off-limits kitchen table to watch for us out the window.

He curls up on my off-limits green chair.

He refuses to learn "stay."

Sometimes I just want to yank his tail and cry, "Don't you understand?!  You can't do that!"

But then tips his head sideways and looks at me with those huge brown eyes, ears perked up, and all over his face I read, "I want to please you.  And I love you so much."

Then I remember the way he cuddles in the crook of our bent knees, the way he jumps and twirls in the air, the way he follows me in and out of every room in the house as I tidy, the way his leg kicks when we rub his belly just right, the way he runs with all the energy in the world to greet Preston when he's home from school, the way his legs slide out from under him on our wood floors, the way he raises his eyebrows when he's confused, the way his ears flip inside out and show the caramel color underneath, the way he throws his body across our laps on top of our laptops, reminding us that he's better than anything online.

(On que, please read a note from Sonny himself:               "Aggggggggbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg"

Really, that just happened.)

I remember how much he loves us, despite how mad I get at him, and I feel so blessed to have such a beautiful, cuddly, forgiving dog.

When I was a kid, I would have given anything to get our family dog to sleep with me, but he always wanted to be with my parents.  Now, I have a dog that would give anything to hop in bed with us and I won't let him because my white bedspread means too much.  That memory hit me the other day, and caused me to reevaluate.

Thanks for reminding me what really matters, Sonny Boy.  And welcome to the family.