Crunch, Crunch , Crunch

I really thought my life would follow the advice of a bumper sticker I saw years ago: Life Begins When The Kids Move Away and the Dog Dies. Nah -- wasn't to be. Wifey is far too dog -philic -- she's made it clear that having a dog or dogs is non negotiable. And so it is.

We currently have two: Vienna, a very strange looking rescue dog that is, as far as we can tell, part long haired Dachshund, part Shepherd, and part Chow. Years ago one of Wifey's friends said we should say she is a Hialeah Mountain Dog, and I kind of like that description. Vienna, who we also call Sausage, on account of her shape, was to be fostered here in '11 after she jumped into some of D2's friends' car, and her original home couldn't be located. That foster relationship has turned into permanence, although Vienna always tries to escape whenever she has the opportunity -- and is by far the smartest dog we've ever had.

The other canine, sort of, is Bo, a special needs Cavalier King Charles Spaniel whose owners, an older Cuban couple, gave up for adoption when he was one year old. His original name was Principe, Spanish for Prince, and he is. He was born with twisted rear legs, which could have been surgically corrected, but the couple didn't have the money to do it. So instead he grew up walking like a raccoon, which makes him even cuter looking.

One of D1's friends saw him for adoption at Pet Smart, called D1, and Wifey flew over and got him.  The plan was that he was to become D2's dog, and indeed she took him to UF for her first semester of grad school, where he was treated, more or less, like a normal dog. But her second semester apartment was dog-free, and so Bo stayed with us, where he became spoiled to absurd lengths.

Wifey started bringing him his food to the couch, where he eats lying down. Somehow this has become normal.

And I, well, sort of fell in love with him. His nickname is Little Man. He whines when he is alone. He whines when one of his pillows is in the wrong place, or is occupied by Vienna.

But he is the most loving, little companion of all time.

I usually feed him, as I'm up before Wifey. I bring him his food to the couch, which is behind me as I sit at my computer desk. He sniffs the food for awhile, and then slowly begins to eat, in the softest way -- crunch....crunch...crunch.

It's become my favorite morning sound.

Sometimes he gets up and walks away before the food is gone, and then Vienna, the opportunist, sweeps in to gobble it up. We then replace Bo's food later, while keeping a stern eye of the smarter dog.

The other family dog belongs to D1 and Joey -- Madeleine, another Cavalier. D1 bought Mads before her senior year at UF, and has been D1's loving companion through college, grad school, and first work years. She is the sweetest -- also just wants to be close to people.

She joined us T Day, and the three dogs had their own Dogsgiving -- put away in D2's old bedroom so as not to get tripped over by the guests.

So I'm resigned, and actually happy, about a dog filled future. And -- today -- Bo finished his kibble. There'll be more crunching tomorrow morning.