Once
I graduated from college, I began the slow process of settling
into the real world. I watched as friends had children, and made
jokes about ways to measure how quickly they grew. When the babies
started to crawl, things needed to be picked up off of the floor.
When they started to pull themselves up, tablecloths were removed
and valuables raised above coffee-table height. It was a retreat
of preservation, with possessions being elevated as the children
grew.
- 
I
now have two children of my own. Each has four legs and stands
about two feet tall. Lady and Travis… my trusted companions and
Labradors. Tigg says I’m a bit too understanding and forgiving
when it comes to their transgressions. But don’t all parents want
to laugh at times when they should be yelling?
I
recall watching with a tear in my eye the first times they went
up a flight of stairs on their own. Now I wish they’d just stay
downstairs. Over the years, one if not both of them have stolen
brownies off counters, forced me off the bed, chewed on any number
of books, and destroyed Tigg’s shoes (but not mine… good dogs).
And some events will only make dog owners smile…
We
placed our couch beneath the bay window of the house we lived
in a few years ago. Travis loved to jump on the couch, put his
paws over the back, and stare out the window at the driveway and
the street. Quite the sight when leaving for the day or arriving
back home.
One
weekend we went away for a friend’s wedding. The boys found the
sofa torn apart. What we know is that there was a chew stick on
the floor behind the couch. What we think is that Travis dropped
it and tried to dig through the cushion to get it. What we don’t
know for absolute certain is exactly which dog to blame. We don’t
believe Lady is too innocent in the matter. She looked a bit too
happy to let us blame him. Owners of multiple dogs know the “you’re
blaming the wrong one, which is fine with me” expression.
When
guilty, three things generally happen. First, like the couch,
there appears a possible explanation. Second, they break out those
darn “I’m sorry and I love you” eyes as I’m about to get mad at
them. And third, no matter how much I yell, they still meet me
at the door, tails taking out anything nearby, happy to see I’ve
come home. I could simply walk to the mailbox and back and find
myself with the “we’re so glad to see you, we thought you’d never
get home” royal treatment.
- 
Recently
we installed an island in our kitchen. We bought the cabinets
and counter separately, and assembled them on our own. The first
night of use had us placing some food on it. Across from us two
paws suddenly appeared, perched on the edge.
Then
a nose.
Finally,
a face.
The
battle for space has moved to 38 inches off the floor. The battle
continues. And my friends are laughing about me.