Are my dogs my favorite people?
Are you kidding me?!? I won’t insult my kick ass dogs, they’re definitely not people.
Look at this pretty boy.
This is Bo Dog, the Blonde Bombshell, 🎶Bo Doggy Dogg Who Makes No Sound 🎶.
A few years back, I discovered my husband was a filthy whore who essentially was trying to sleep with everything in a 3 county radius. Crushed, I left our home in the sticks with room for more dogs than I could feed, and I went home to Fletcher and 15th (the hoodie hood hood) to live with my baby sister and that hot ass blonde above. I was a wreck. Ugly crying, vodka before whiskey behaving, considering online dating, real bad look.
But, then Bo happened. Bo never made a peep. I honestly thought he had a broken barker. Yet, he wagged so much every day when I got home, I didn’t care, I heard every word. Since my sister is a gyno-oncology nurse, I spent a lot of time with Bo Dog, so we would walk the hood a few times a night, mostly for my benefit, because I was wilting. Bo Dog was such a happy walker, he skipped. I said, Bo Dog, if you can skip, you can run. I decided to test the theory at some trails over the Alafaya where I used to marathon train.
This dog was a natural. He could run like the wind, miles and miles, never lost his smile, never made a peep. He ran with me in the rain, through the woods, across creeks, in orange groves, through downtown Tampa, on the beach, you name it, we ran it. We ran so long, my divorce came and went. We ran right through the sadness. Silently.
One Saturday morning, a guy from a few buildings over comes to the door. He says he’s looking for my sisters guy, I open the door to hear him talking, leaning in the hall half interested, taking his number down to relay to sis and her guy. Behind me, some wild beast roars to life. I’m telling you that I jumped 3 feet high and the guy at the door stepped back over the threshold to the porch, still one hand on the door. The roaring is now a snarling not unlike someone has cloned sabertooth tigers and cut them loose in the kitchen. I’m thinking at least 5 wolves have broken into the house and Bo Dog and I have run our last mile.
Bo Dog, barking so hard his whole body is shivering, pushes against the back of my knees with conviction. Simultaneously, it registered that it’s 102 degrees today, but there is a black leather glove holding the door open. Houston, Bo Dog is right, we have a problem. I step aside. Bo Dog walks to doorway, shaking and snarling, the picture of the murderous pitbull. He. Was. Terrifying.
The dude clearly has decided whatever message he needed to leave really isn’t all that important any longer and two steps at a time outta there. Bo Dog turns around, leans against my legs for a hug, then goes to drink some water. His bark has been located, and it’s now hoarse.
Bo Dog waits on the rainbow bridge now, and although we clocked another thousand miles it seems, I never heard him bark again. Apparently, he just didn’t have anything important to say to me, until he did. I’ve no doubt without him there that day, I wouldn’t be telling you my canine chronicles. I’ve no doubt that sweet, silent pitbull saved me again, not from heartache, from someone sinister looking to hurt more than my feelings.
He put himself in harms way to protect a woman that wasn’t even his owner. He had no fear in him, and that day I learned from him to remember I was alone again, and to conduct myself accordingly. I’ve not forgotten that lesson.
In my life, I can’t think of anyone who has done any one of these things for me, much less all these sacrifices. He was my workout buddy, my councelor, my friend and confidant, my security, my snuggle buddy, my stand in boyfriend for movie night, my hype team and my bodyguard. If I should ever find a person with half these awesome characteristics, that is when I may consider remarriage.
People fail you, they hurt you, they throw you away like trash. A dog is a lifetime love. A dog is what happens to you when God is a little too busy to come and save your life himself.