I've met so many good dogs recently. Some dogs are just trouble, and even the best dogs can be excessively needy and time consuming. But they can also be incredibly rewarding as well, and I've even been contemplating getting one as my next companion, once my kittens pass on, of course, which I hope they don't do any time soon (little bums).
Dogs are so pure and innocent. All they ask is that you give them tons and tons of love. And they give you tons and tons of love back. My sweet stepdog, Scudo, was my constant companion in the days after Dad died. The first few nights when I slept on the couch, he slept there with me (or rather ON me, all 60+ pounds of him), and we were a comfort to each other. Perhaps he sensed that I needed some extra love, so he was there to provide. Or perhaps something about the way I smell or sound or behave reminded him of Dad, who was also his dad, and who we both were missing. Regardless, he's a super handsome and good dog, and I'm proud to call him my brother. :)
And then there was Fred, a silky spaniel in Dallas, and silly little Buttons in Plano. Both sweet dogs just trying to be in the mix. And Caesar and Ramona in Silverlake; especially poor little Ramona, who clearly had a rough youth and takes a while to trust people. You can see sadness and fear in her eyes when she growls at you initially, but by the end of an evening with her lovely owners, she was snuggling and wagging her tail every time I patted her head. It's heart breaking to see these poor pups who've been through such hardships but still have such good hearts. And the delightful Juniper who looks like a husky little bear, and who fit right in with Ann's two darling corgis as she explored the beach with them for the first time. And Slumber and Bowie in Sherman Oaks who licked my ankles under the dining table, and later hid dead squirrels in the couch cushions. And who could forget sweet, sensitive Angus in Arizona, and his new pal Pearl who looks like another lovebug. And the microscopic Pickles who makes me so mad when she runs at me barking her head off as I try to get into my own front door, but then makes me smile with her tiny little tongue licking my fingertips once she realizes I'm not a trespasser.
I've always dreamed of having a little brown terrier, like my stuffed dog Pepper, or maybe a pug. Of course I'd go to a shelter and get a rescue dog, and of course I'd want a dog that could be happy in an apartment situation with a working mom, which could be tough. And I'd name her Daphne, or him Nigel.