Melancholy Monday: Four-legged Family

This is Part 1 or a two-part series about my dogs.  Part 1 goes to Morgan because he has seniority.

I have 2 dogs.  If you don't know that about me, then you haven't visited here nearly enough!  The problem with having 2 dogs and a punk is that the dogs very often take a back seat to the punk.  Yes, I just referred to my child, my 2-year-old sweetie pie, as a punk.  But in the very nicest way possible.

At first, I didn't have much guilt about my dogs being second in line.  My reasoning was that they are still well taken care of, have everything they need and more and they live better than alot of humans.  They are an integral part of our family, but our time is short and it is mainly shortened when it comes to them.

The fact of the matter is that they need more attention.  They need love and they need playtime.  Where will that time come from?  Out of my rear end, naturally.  The same place that all my other time needed for things (and money too) comes from.  But it has to be done.

Captain Morgan is 10 years old.  That picture was taken last month.  Until this summer, you'd have never known that he was 10.  He was playful and active and demanded that you toss a few tennis balls for him on a daily basis.  And while he still does that, it's half the amount of tennis balls and it takes double the amount of time for him to fetch.  He is the most lovable and sweet giant dog that ever lived...until you mess with one of us.  And then he turns into a scary black dog that will eat your face off.  Seriously.  Ask that guy in Bloomington who tried to hold me hostage or something.  He'd tell you.

I don't like to think about my life without Morgan...he's been a constant in my life for 10 years.  That's almost as long as I've known Chris.  And it's one third of my life.  But I MUST think of my life without Morgan.  Because that day will inevitably come and I'd like to think that I'll be a little more prepared for it if I begin my preparation now. 

This summer marked the time in Morgan's life where he started to feel his age.  He has slowed down to about half his speed.  He sleeps about 18 hours out of the day.  He wants to be alone most of the time.  He isn't mean in any sense of the word...he just likes his space.  He still loves us and he loves Jayna more than he loves us.  He is extremely tolerant of her antics and would protect her with his life.  But he now knows his age.

This is why it's more important than EVER to devote more time to him.

I could tell millions of stories about this dog.  Like the time he ate something dead in a creek and was sick for 3 months.  Or the time he ate an entire bag of Doritos and then turned the bag inside out to lick all the stuff out of there.  Or the time he stayed lying in the back seat of the car with the door opened and never got out for 10 minutes while we chased Oliver.  He's goofy and silly, but serious all at the same time.  He really has been the best dog that I could ever ask for...and he really is my best friend.