Countdown to V-Day, Pt. 1

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m republishing some of my past posts about love…My first repost is my rendition of My Funny Valentine(s), featuring Tallis and Chloe, my cute, but rotten dogs. They’re still not 100% housebroken, they tend to yap, and they’re exceedingly lazy. But we love them anyway:


Puppy Love

This is Chloe (black and white) and her brother Tallis (white and cream).

I have a confession to make…

These dogs do not make my heart go pitter-patter.

That is not to say that they have not inspired some intense emotions in me. For example, I am insanely jealous of them every morning when I head out to work and they are busily engaged in their usual activity:

I’ll admit that it used to amuse me to dress them up occasionally:

And to take photos of them, dripping like wet dishrags in the arms of my children:

Objectively, I can see that they’re really cute dogs:

But don’t let those cute faces fool you. They are the worst kind of troublemakers. Every time I dare to hope that they’re finally coming around, I am proven wrong. Whenever I forget myself and make the mistake of praising the dogs or expressing any kind of affection towards them, my son has to warn me:

“STOP!!! What are you doing?! Every time you say anything nice about them, they do something really terrible!”

It’s true. Well past puppyhood, they are still not 100% housebroken. They pee on the rugs. They’ve peed on my new-ish couch, which necessitated the purchase of even newer, super expensive pee-free cushions. They’ve chewed up woodwork. They’ve eaten poop. They’ve eaten rocks…yes, rocks.

One of my sisters described the dogs as devoid of any personality. Another sister used the word “blobby” to capture their essence.

I’m going to be painfully honest here. The three of us never really clicked…until this weekend.

I gained a whole new appreciation for them over the Thanksgiving holiday. They were exceedingly tolerant of all my nieces and nephews, who expressed their love for them vigorously and relentlessly.

They even earned their keep by “working” at a “Puppies and Pumpkins” event for international students who were staying in Charlottesville over the Thanksgiving break:

Their blobbiness magically transformed into an asset!

In appreciation, I rained lavish sweet nothings upon their furry little heads. I fed them bits of ham. I gave them massages. Chloe wriggled with pleasure. She gazed up into my eyes with adoration…and promptly showered the floor with a gallon of pee.

More about my two miscreants in these posts:

Cute, but Rotten Pt. 1

Cute, but Rotten Pt. 2

My Genius Dogs

Dogs in America

Dogs in America (a post script)

I’m taking a little detour from my next installment of Stories from Easter Island to add a post script to yesterday’s post.

I read Sparrow to my dogs. They were unimpressed.

“So the mutt caught a few birds that could heal sick kids. Are we supposed to think that’s sooo amazing?”

“Remember that time I caught a bird?”

“Oh yeah! Mmmhmmm…The one that was dead, right?”

“And then there was that caterpillar I almost caught once…”

“Oh my God, I’m getting exhausted just thinking about it.”