On Saturday, we celebrated four years together. A few days earlier, I read a quotation from Suzanne Clothier: "Being realistic about what a dog can and cannot do is an act of love." Of all the tens of articles and books I've read since bringing you home, nothing rings as true as this does.
I'm very aware of the things you cannot do. You cannot visit dog parks. You cannot go to an agility trial. You cannot be off-leash on trails or even in the yard in case a dog or child attracts your attention. You cannot be the dog I thought I was bringing home.
But that's ok.
I love you for all of the many, many things you can do.
You can turn grey, gloomy days into peaceful strolls along the lake.
You can run faster than a speeding bullet to greet me--even if we've only been apart long enough for me to refill my coffee cup.
You can fit into the tiniest beds and turn random objects--like my duffel bag--into beds.
You can entertain yourself with toys and make me laugh.
You can be the most patient model in the universe. Even if I insist on taking many variations on the same picture.
You can help me find beauty all across the country as we explore different parks and trails.
You can herd scarecrow sheep better than anyone.
You can melt my heart with your love for your brother (even if you take my spot in bed to be closer to him).