"My goal in life is to be the kind of person my dogs thinks I am."
I love dogs. From the time I was a little girl all I ever wanted was a dog. I asked for a dog every Christmas, Birthday and gift-giving holiday from the time I was about 5 on, to no avail. I received a series of other "pets", namely hamsters (stinky and lame), parakeets (don't do tricks, just poop and eat and chirp) and a bunny (my sis Tara and I tried to walk the bunny like a dog once and ended up getting clawed until we bled. Not a pleasant experience for either one of us. I have held a grudge against bunnies since that day), but nothing could replace my incessant desire for a dog.
I have three dogs now. Liddy (technically our family dog) that was brought home by my sister without permission and is now the ruler or my parent's household and a family treasure, Molly, my wild, neurotic but ridiculously sweet Vizsla that came to me via Ben for Christmas during our engagement and after the purchase of our first home, and Leonard, my teeny tiny weenie dog that was intended to keep Molly company and satisfy my desire to forever hold a dog in my arms and cuddle with something that would never get big. My dogs are my friends. My dogs are my family.
Now, for those of you that aren't dog lovers and don't understand the obsession, let me share with you a story that Ben sent me in an email yesterday, defining the purpose of a dog through the explanation of a 6 yr. old:
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