How is it that a small furry face and a fat round body with bad breath and seriously bad farts could make me so happy?
Leonard is a chunky little dynamo with short spurts of energy that always end with long twitchy naps complete with snoring. He's the doofiest of doofs, often running into doors and tables with his too big head, and falling over himself when his front half stops before his back half gets the message that he's actually stopped moving. He loves his kibble, chewing his elk antler, his Kong toy and his fuzzy squeaky toy. He also loves playing with Arnie, one of my cats. He's learned to give Mama Belle, the other cat and Queen of Our Home, a wide berth and much respect and leaves her the hell alone lest she hiss loudly at him and pound his smooshy face into oblivion. Sometimes he will just watch her from a distance in awe.
I love animals. I love my cats so much. And it's been a long while since I've had a dog in my life. I'd forgotten how great dogs are. I mean I knew how much dogs bring to one's life - how much sheer joy and unbridled happiness they can bring. But over time, when you haven't had a dog in your life, one of your own to come home to, to play with, to care for, to worry about, to care for you, you forget that true feeling of peace and endless, deep, abiding, unconditional love dogs give.
This lil Fat Boy is here to stay. And I couldn't be happier.