let me just get this out-of-the-way: i am fully conscious of the beeswax i’ve created with my beasts. hunkiest and i are their pets. we pretty much give them a rent check each month, and must ask each night if we can sleep in that big california king bed in the largest of bedrooms.
i’m not sure when the shift happened. i only take partial responsibility. for me “no” really does mean “no.” not “oh you’re the sweetest, prettiest dog in the entire world. i’m sorry you’re incessantly barking. here, let me give you a back massage, chew toy, and a piece of steak to get you to stop.” —-my sweet husband has a different take on discipline than me.
but it’s not like we’re raising future voters. we can’t find priscilla’s photo voter i.d. card anyway, so there goes her missouri ballot.
and it’s not like these guys will be out on the highways and streets operating fresh off the lot bmw’s on their 16th birthdays, with the entitlement of a siamese prince, and the open roads his puerile concubines. priscilla can barely hold a scissors in her mouth and we limit her electrical socket and metal object playtime to an hour a day.
to say our adored beasts are a bit indulged is like saying mountain dew might have a little sugar in it. but i’m not going to apologize. they bring us so much levity and laughter.
people can understand the laughter: hello? priscilla?
we love them hard and fierce. sometimes i have to grab one of those faces and just squeeze it tight, tight, tight, so close to mine as if i just can’t get enough of them.
but how does a dog really show their love?
i think when my beasts fall asleep they’re their most loving. so vulnerable and raw, our beasts always have specific ways they like to sleep:
my girl likes to get as close up into my business as she can when she sleeps. i call this the “scarf.” here she is post marathon walk, snoring so loud she’s peeling paint off the walls, and creviced right under the crook of my neck. she didn’t move for an hour.
when jones feels happiest he starts to move to his back. hh snapped this shot of our boy eventually making his way prone. we start out slowly, with a little chest rub and lullabies, after a couple of minutes, sweet baby is sound asleep, paws in the air looking like a 3rd human in the bed. one paw is always touching either hh or me. jones can’t sleep without having contact with someone.
here’s my girl drifting off to dreamland. and as my friend melissa pointed out, priscilla is all “up in my grill.” where she stays all night long, purring like a kitten {priscilla is a confused animal.}
oh. nothing like napping with a beast.
thank goodness jones needs a little more personal space {all 150lbs of great pyrenees would be hard to manage on my shoulder.} convinced he’s a person, jones prefers to have a pillow at his head, and like i said won’t fall asleep without some sort of “hand” to “hold.” sometimes he’ll even take priscilla’s.
these souls, the way they love so hard, and live in the moment have turned me not only into a big push-over, sappy-sap, but also into a believer of something so much more profound and greater than me or this world i live in. not religion per se, but the love and connection i feel from my beasts, has made me realize i’ve been way to arrogant for most of my life to think there is just earth and then we die.
i’m not sure what form god exists, but i’m convinced god’s angels are all around me. i have three living under my roof right now.
My Golden Pyrenees is the perfect blend of them both to the T in manor isms while at her cutest atop her Cal King with me aside. I love my Downtown Hound. We should breed Golden Pyrenees. ❤
I laughed so hard at "puerile concubines." These pictures are adorable though!
thanks miss mugdha. loved your carmen san diego costume!
it's time we add a new 'beast' to our world again. i miss so much that pure goodness they can only give ~
it\’s time. family mccardle is in need of a new beast.