In Short

Since my last blog became an epic tale, let me just simply state that as this Thanksgiving weekend closes, I feel immense gratitude.

In My Defense

This blog is for the benefit of my children. There have been two popular accusations as of late.

First: Abby is getting treated WAY better than Roxy (our Dane of 10 years, now deceased) and

Second: I forget Abby is a dog and treat her better than my own children.

FOR THE RECORD:
Accusation #1

1. Yes, it is true. When Al and I go to Burger King, we always buy a plain hamburger for Abby.
Two reasons: It's not polite to eat in front of her and she likes hamburgers. Now WAIT! We bought a few for Roxy too, but because there wasn't room for all of you kids in the car plus the dog you wouldn't remember it .... that was something Roxy and I usually did while running errands. Trust me. Roxy liked hamburgers too.

2. Yes, it is true. We take Abby to a dog socialization class in Salt Lake almost every Saturday.
If you had been there when she was doing her "pre-socialization" behavior, you would see the need too. A 120 lb dog with no "party etiquette" makes you very unpopular in the neighborhood. Roxy on the other hand, was socialized as a pup by a constant flow of children, friends and weird teenage activity. She had "skills".

3. Yes, it is true. I take Abby out for a walk every morning, and to the store and on errands every chance I get.
Roxy didn't get daily walks, that's true too and maybe not fair. BUT, Roxy belonged to a pack of eight (plus four or five) and she went to soccer games, Petsmart and played Steal the Flag with us at the elementary school. When she was home, there was usually commotion on the trampoline, or playing tug of war. When Abby is at home, she is either alone while we're at work, or stuck with Al and I. A pack of three. Hanging out with just your parents can be kind of a drag....ask Amy.

4. Yes, it is true. Abby has a coat to wear when we go for walks in the winter.
Abby has fur, but no thick undercoat like many of her cousin dogs. Danes have a hard time keeping their body temperature when it gets ridiculously cold (It's true. Google it!) I really want to walk as long as possible. So she got a coat. HOWEVER, Abby's coat is not a weak sauce "I'm a spoiled chiweenie coat". There is a difference. Abby's is warm and functional while still allowing her to keep her dignity, in a muted dark blue with light blue reflector tape. Somewhat like a boat cover......

5. And Yes, it is true, I use a little bit of food from our dinner to flavor her food. And NO, it is NOT true that I gave the only two meatballs to Abby instead of Dustin.
Yes, I know that when Roxy was in the house, it was a cardinal rule to not feed her from the table (like Al ever felt obligated to follow that one!). That still IS the rule. Dogs are not allowed to beg for food while people are at the table eating. BUT, Abby has a hard time keeping weight on so I scoop just a little bit to help entice her to eat. She turns into a walking skeleton pretty easy. I'm pretty sure Roxy doesn't mind....she snagged enough pizzas and lasagnas off of the counter to be way ahead in the count. Which takes us to the meatball thing.... simmering on the stove was a pot FULL of meatballs, which I was in the process of bringing to the table. Dustin, you have my solemn word, if there are really, truly only two left of ANYTHING.... I will always give them to you. Always.

Accusation #2

I know my dog is different than my children because...

1. Abby sleeps on the floor. I provided beds for my children. Not that they always used them, but I provided them. Roxy on the other hand, slept in Cami or Amy's bed every day of her life until the last bit when it was too hard for her to get up and in. At that point she slept with her huge stuffed bear on the floor and stole Amy's wizard blanket (every night). So maybe that distinction isn't as clear as I thought it would be. But anyway....score one for Roxy!

2. I have to put chairs up on the couch every time I leave the house so Abby doesn't get up on it. My children are always allowed to use the couch unless your name is Scarlet, are 2 years old and trying to eat hummus with your fingers.

3. My children eat from plates at the table. Abby eats from a bowl set on a storage bin. Roxy's bowl was also on storage bin, but she wasn't opposed to eating anything dead, rancid or putrid off of the ground, out of the grass or out of the garbage.

4.When Abby did a really stupid thing and attacked another dog, I promptly made plans to evict her from our family. When my children did stupid things, I attempted to ground them for the rest of their lives, but never, EVER entertained the thought of sending them back to their previous owner.

5. My dogs pretty much sleep when I'm not home. I don't have to make sure they are going to school just because they say they did. I don't have to worry about where they are at night and who they are with and what they are doing. They don't take their friends out on the roof or cut their hair. They don't jump off of other people's roofs and swim in other peoples swimming pools or ski on the roof of cars. They don't squirt water guns at policemen (or water balloons) and they don't do tricks off of cliffs. When I leave the house, the dogs are there. When I get home, the dogs are still there. Can't say the same for my children.

6. I found my dogs in the classified ads. My children took nine months, thirty boxes of cheerios (gingerly nibbled, one cheerio at a time), my every waking and sleeping moment and all my hopes and dreams. The level of investment between my children and my dogs: Not even close.

In conclusion:

Roxy came when there were two very different camps of people housed in one place. Roxy came to bridge the gap, soften the edges and encourage everyone in this house into a person, not a surname. Her days were eventful, and busy. She had a full life. She didn't need other people or other dogs. She had a family to take care of and faces to lick.

One of Cesar Milan's favorite sayings is "You may not get the dog you want, but you will always get the dog you need". Abby has taught me some crazy life lessons in the last seven months. Exposed parts of me that I was clueless about, and then took the brunt of my learning curve as I've wrestled with sorting them out. I owe her alot. And then again...the same could be said of my children. They have the same knack for exposing my weaknesses and then patiently riding the curve while I flounder. I owe them even more.

I'm ready now to rest my case. Only problem is maybe things are not as clear as I intially assumed. ..my defense not as air-tight as I had originally thought. Nevertheless, I will declare until the day I die, "Those were NOT the last two meatballs."

If I Am My Own Biggest Obstacle, Then Why Don't I Get Out of My Way More Often?

Without fail, every time I get in my car, there is a moment of cringe and then shame over how dirty it is. Not big stuff like paper and cups, but little stuff like crumbs, loose dirt and bits of junk. On Saturday, I pulled into a local car wash and used the vacuum. Five minutes and four quarters. No more cringe. No more shame. Well...THAT wasn't hard!