We’ve had our little Jasper dog for 8 months now. None of us can remember what on earth we did without him.
He’s smart. He’s loveable. He’s funny.
Sometimes when the boys play their instruments he sings along.
He’s great at playing catch and (when it’s time to go in his crate) hide and seek.
He hates dog treats but loves Wheat Thins.
Whenever we hug the boys in the morning and pat their backs or rear ends, he jumps up, runs across the room, and mock bites at our hands as though he’s protecting them from a terrible beating.
He lays under the table at supper time and waits (somewhat) patiently for his turn.
He lays by the front window to warn all passersby that he is here and he means business.
He crawls onto the foot of the bed in the morning and waits, motionless, for my eyes to open.
He stays off the bed at all other times.
He is morally opposed to squirrels, flies and socked feet.
He considers all laps his for the taking.
If ever anyone cries or feels sick, he curls up beside them. It’s like he knows that a little extra lovin’ is needed.
He is, in short, one of us. He’s part of the pack.
So it’s okay really that he’s not such a great fishing partner. It’s alright that he thinks casting is an elaborate game of catch. We’ll forgive him for the fact that he bounds after the bait, thereby scaring off all the fish.
He’s the best catch anyhow…. a real keeper.