My beautiful baby girl is seven today! To say that I am obsessed with my dog would be an understatement. If you have seen me with her then you know I treat her like she’s my child. I tuck her into bed each night. I ask her if she had a good sleep each morning. I wipe the goop from under her eyes while giving her kisses as she rests her head on my lap. I talk to her and ask her questions (in public) and based on her facial expressions I know she’s listening and understands. I get concerned that she’s too hot or too cold or hungry or tired. I tell her she’s beautiful each day. And I cuddle her even when she’d rather be sprawled out by herself. Yes, I am a smothering mother to my dog. But she fits the role perfectly and she’s been through so much with me. Seven years of life – specifically seven years during my twenties and during such a time of change and growth. This pup is always excited to see me (even when she’s just waking up from a nap), can always make me laugh or smile with her funny facial expressions and will come lay by me knowing exactly when I need some love. So yes, I’m obsessed with my dog. But how could I not be when she is the perfect friend full of unconditional love.
