Best Friends

Wherever Zoe is, Max is nearby watching over her.

I always feel like somebody's watching me...

It's cute, really. Except when we're obsessing over Mister Poop Eater (to his credit, we haven't actually caught him in the act or smelled it on his breath recently) licking her on her face.

For The Fuzzball, a peak into the living room lick fest

For her part, she stares right back at him... watching, no... observing every little thing he does. She leans forward, smiles at him, grabs onto his collar and then opens her mouth for kisses. It's gross but sort of cute all at the same time. When we tell Max to stop licking the baby they both look at us like we're disturbing them and "What's the big deal?" They're quite the duo.

When I was a little bit older than Zoe is now, I had Ralphy. He was a mutt and a good dog. I picked him out at the dog pound and named him "Ruffy" (I think - is that right Mom?) which my parents translated to Ralphy. Somewhere, there's a photo of us sitting in my playpen. Together, we had dug/ripped a hole big enough for him to squeeze through and be with me. We had him until he ran away during a storm when I was in the 2nd grade. I remember being devastated at losing him and to this day I am drawn to dogs that look like he did. He was my best friend.

I think Max is Zoe's best friend.


Popular posts from this blog

A Story...