Dogs Don't Eat Pizza

As you all already know, I am so grateful for my dogs.

They are my four-legged babies.

Bear is the yellow labrador retriever.  She is 11 1/2.  We adopted her from a rescue group when she was 8 months old.  She is the smart one, and the one who doesn’t eat pizza (well, neither of them eats pizza, but she is the original dog who doesn’t eat pizza).  I refer to her as my first born.

Hank is the golden retriever.  He’s 7.  We adopted him (from the same rescue group, Golden Retriever Rescue of Atlanta) in May of 2011.  We were looking for a friend for Bear, who is a dominant alpha female.  Hank is a wuss.  He really doesn’t mind following Bear around and letting her call the shots.  He’s just a big floppy love.

And anyone who thinks dogs don’t talk should meet these pups.  They talk to each other all the time.  If Hank is going outside, he goes and gets Bear and nudges her on the nose to go with him.  They have worked out that Hank gets in the bed with us at night, gets out of bed at 4:30 or 5 AM, and Bear gets in the bed.

They worked all this out, I am certain.

I adore them.  They are such good company.  They take care of me when I’m sick.

Keeping me company when I broke my leg.

They stay up late with me when I’m working late.

They help with all my DIY projects.

They love unconditionally.

They endure kids teasing them and grabbing them.

They keep the squirrels in our yard at bay.

They are the best.

I’m so grateful I get to be their mommy.

Thanks for stopping by!  What are you grateful for today?