It's Valentine's Day and I started thinking about how much I love my dogs. And then about how extra happy I am that my husband is also happy with all the dogs around. Which is one of the many things that make him pretty special.
My husband and I have been married 10 years. That's 70 in dog years! When we first started dating, I had "bad-dog Lucky." Lucky was the Aussie who liked to bite people, especially strangers and kids. He wasn't easy to like until Lucky decided he liked you. Then you were in like flint. Never to be given the stink-eye again. My husband made it into that circle pretty darn quick. A good sign.
When my husband traveled three hours with me to Philadelphia to take Lucky to a veterinary behaviorist (Dr. Karen Overall, one of the best in the country), I knew he — the future husband — was going to fit in just fine.
We've raised ten service pups and he's endured my tears and heartbreak at every turn-in. He's lived through hair-on-everything-imaginable. He's Nemo's permanent lap-of-choice. The poor man's surrounded, immersed, and is drowning in dogs.
But he seems to like it. He's a keeper.