Growing up (cue the sad music, please) I wasn’t allowed to have a dog.
Quiet your gasps. I know, I know. It doesn’t get much more unAmerican than a family of 5 without a dog. I used to take my stuffed dog for walks. One Christmas we got cats. That’s as close as we came.
Needless to say, I don’t really understand how people love their dogs “like they are their children.” I hear that quite often and I just don’t really get it. Do I love our dogs? Yeah, I do (I know some of you are calling me a liar under your breath…but I really am starting to like them a whole lot more than when they were puppies). But not like they are my children. And when Danny says, “Go get mommy,” to Scout, he knows he’s gonna get the look. I do love my dogs. But not as much as my kids love them…
..and that includes my tiniest kitten.
She loves Scout.
And Scout loves her.
She squeals with delight when she sees Scout run by and when he’s laying down? She scoots over as fast as those little arms will carry her. Smiles and smiles spill out.
He’s a pretty good dog.
Even when this sweet little thing tugs and pulls,
Scout will take it.
Zeek, on the other hand, is still pretty puppy-like. He’s hyper and jumpy and when he’s inside, we make sure Charlotte is being held. He would never nip at her, but he doesn’t really watch where he’s going…and giant dog feet hurt.
Could these eyes get any bigger or more beautiful?
Back to the baby and her dog…