As it turns out, today is the day that my puppy is not really a puppy any longer. Miso the dog turns two today.
It should be noted that I am not a dog person. Or, perhaps more accurately, I am a reluctant dog person. Previous to the appearance of Miso in my life, I was the sort of girl who could sort of appreciate the idea of dogs, provided that they didn't touch me or get too close. That sort of thing. But then: Miso. It is ridiculously difficult not to be charmed by a creature that follows you everywhere and responds to your very existence with complete enthusiasm and joy. I mean, who says no to that?
Not me.
He is love in canine form, and I'm all in. I have become that crazy lady that shows strangers pictures of my dog. At night, I let him sleep with his nose on my shoulder. I find myself making scheduling decisions based on how long I can feasibly be away from him without either one of us feeling sad. It is inexcusably dorky, but also makes me pretty happy.
Happy birthday, pup.
