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I’ve had him since he was just 8 weeks old.  Over the last five and a half years, I can’t recall one single day that he’s been in my presence where his signature goofy persona hasn’t made me laugh.  He’s the light of my life.  He’s my confidant, my rock, my baby, my biggest fan, one of my five reasons for living, and he’s my friend.  He’s also my dog.

My daughter is a huge pet fan.  She recently brought home a book on pets, ordered from Scholastic, that described a black lab as “always hungry.”  This is true of my lab.  He knows that he gets fed at 7:00 a.m. and around 5:00 p.m., and he has no problem with reminding you should you get tied up in some meaningless human activity. 

If I dare have my coffee without feeding him first, he will pace back and forth from where I’m sitting, nails on his paws clacking on the hardwood floor, to his dog food bowl, each time stopping to see if food has magically appeared in his bowl since the last time he gazed longingly in to the empty plastic bowl.  He sits pretty and looks at you innocently when you fill his bowl with food, waiting for permission to go ahead and eat up.   You see, my lab has manners, he knows he can’t rush to the bowl until I say it’s ok. Besides, 100 pound lab paws on your bare feet hurts.

Once he eats, he passes out for his mid morning nap, but only after poofing up his dog pillow, using his paws.  Have you ever seen a dog poof up his own pillow?  It’s so funny.

He knows where every ounce of sunlight comes in to the house through every window, at any time of the day.  If you don’t see him on his pillow, look for the sunshine and he will be sacked out right in the middle the warmth..

He loves everyone.  He greets you with a sniff instead of a lick.  If you want him to taste test your snack, he’s happy to oblige.  If I’m happy, he wants to be a part of it.  If I’m sad, he’s there as well to lend a helping paw. 

He’s definitely leading a dog’s life.  Sleep, eat, chew on some rawhide treats, run a lap, mark your territory, sleep, eat a little more and sleep.  I bet if he could talk, he’d tell you he’s the true definition of a “Lucky Dog.”

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