Click, click, click. Her little toes clack against the hardwood as she trots over to the couch that I just plopped down on with my morning coffee. She knows I’m a sucker and all she has to do is ask nicely.
She rests her greying muzzle on the edge of the couch, just inches from my fuzzy-socked feet. I know what’s coming next – the eyes. Right on cue she flicks her gaze upward and stares into my eyes. This is her asking permission to join me for some cuddles. Drats, her puppy-eyed voodoo has worked again. I pat the couch, say, “okay!” and up she pounces, tail wagging, delighted to curl up next to her human.
When I say, “next to” what I really mean is, “on top of”. I don’t even mind. I actually kind of like how ridiculously close she has to be to me. Having her legs draped over mine, her little snores echoing in the earlier morning, is one of the best feelings. I soak in these moments because I know they won’t be here forever. She is literally the best dog in the whole world. I don’t even care what you have to say about how great your dog is ’cause Sadie wins.
I am obsessed. I get it. She is my shadow, it is hard not to fall in love. She knows when I’m sad, she nudges her head under my arm to give me a hug. She knows when I’m sick, she patrols the bathroom or wherever I am quarantined. She is my emotional support animal, giving me what I am missing in human relationships. She plays with me when I am being silly. We mutually wag our tails when we greet each other. I am a sucker for her cuddles and her puppy dog eyes.
Never in a million years did I think that I was bringing home my fur-child when I went against all better judgment and picked up a dog at the shelter on a whim. I am so glad that Sadie chose me as her human. I adore this little ball of furry love more than is possibly captured with words.