For the love of dogs

This post is dedicated to pet lovers and their beloved furry friends.

For my entire life I've been more than fond of dogs. I've had three of my own and I plan to have a farm one day that will foster all the world's homeless doxies. Bailey, the current love of my life, has been my partner in crime for the past 5 years. During the five years of his life, I've lived in 4 different apartments, had 3 different jobs, lived in 2 states and been in love with one man. When put that way, Bailey has seen and heard more about my home-life than any human could ever imagine. Essentially, he's been a "fly on the wall" since 2004. Bailey has seen nudity, heard fights, licked tears, hid under the bed during earthquakes, seen sickness, watched countless hours of 90210 reruns and even witnessed a kitchen fire (MMA). The intertwined life of a dog and his human is in many ways one of the most intimate relationships a human can have.

Too much of my adulthood has been spent trying to explain to my dad the important role that a dog, specifically Bailey, plays in my life and that the relationship between owner and dog teaches profound life lessons. In order to really love a dog you must think selflessly, act affectionately and above all else respond to a dog's loyalty, with loyalty.

What surprises me most about Bailey is that despite the fact that he often confuses carpet for grass and concrete pillars for fire hydrants, he is actually very perceptive. He's good at fetch and roll-over but what I'm talking about here is his ability to recognize emotion. When I'm sad (not crying, just quiet and reflective) he doesn't dare bring me the tennis ball or pounce around trying to pick a fight. In fact, he does just the opposite. Bailey will sit in my lap and cuddle as close to my body as he can, as if he knows that's what he's supposed to do.

You might say that Bailey knows me so why wouldn't he just want to cuddle anyway? Well, I had a roommate once (BT) who rarely cried but when she did it was louder and scarier than anything you can image. Picture a child with a very low baritone voice being told he could never see Santa again and that's what we were working with. Anyway, Bailey offered the same love and tenderness for her that he did for me. He'd slowly inch his little face around the doorway to check-in on her and make sure she was okay. Surely he was scared of her loud, wall-shaking wails but instead of hiding, he checked-in on her and offered his sweet, little warm body for a snuggle.

So maybe my points aren't scientific but they are real. Anyway, I shouldn't have to prove that Bailey loves me, I know he does, I can feel it. And most importantly, Bailey makes me happy and I'm so thankful I have the sweetest, balding best friend a girl could ask for.