Puppy Love

As Thanksgiving approaches and I'm driving Homaha with my grandparents (halleluuuuuuujah), I look at the little nugget of a pup that's sitting next to me in the back seat of the car, and I realize how grateful I am for her. When I think back on how she became my baby, I can't believe I've had the privilege of being her mom for nine years and a day.

I might sound like a crazy person for talking about Emma like this, but from the beginning she has been my dog, and mine alone. When she was a puppy, she looked like a little teddy bear. Incapable of putting her down, I would constantly carry her around like a baby and pet her tummy. Accustomed to being on her back all the time, when she got older she continued to lay on her back and "swim," waiting for people to scratch her stomach like I did when she was little. My brothers think it's stupid that she still does it as an adult, but I just smile, because it will always remind me of her baby days.

She's the one who barks when people yell my name, protects me from the vacuum cleaner that's obviously alive and out to get me, and cuddles with me on cold Nebraska nights. It's amusing to watch her herd my toddler cousins when her instincts kick in, and I love that every time I bathe her she scampers around the house afterwards like she's a puppy again.

She's quirky, but that's probably what makes us perfect for each other.

I am thankful for so many things, but today I remember to be thankful for the dog that's always been there for me. Now that she's getting older, I realize I may only have a few more years with her, and that scares me. This realization makes me even more thankful for the time I've had with her, and motivates me to never take her for granted.

Emma has taught me responsibility, has protected me, and has always been there when I needed a friend. She's the best first dog I could ever have, and I'll always love her.