Growing up, my family never had a family pet. We had pets, but nothing that could not fit in a cage or aquarium, with the exception of Crystal, my albino rabbit that took up a large chunk of the garage and had a temper that kept most people away. It is not that we didn’t want a dog or cat, it was that my mother who has a hard time going to the circus, zoo, or fair because of her allergies said if we got an actual pet, she would have to move into the shed. Despite our almost unanimous vote to start packing her boxes my brother, sister, and I never had a furry friend to play with.
As one can imagine, when my boyfriend said he would be getting a dog I was all gung-ho for it. I knew I would love having a little puppy around, but I didn’t realize how much this little pup would brighten my life. My boyfriend got Caesar when he was eights weeks old. He was clearly the runt of his litter, most people commented on his boney ribs protruding out than his adorable little face. It has been exciting watching Caesar grow from the scared ten pound puppy who would hide between our legs for warmth in the morning when we took him outside to a confident goofy 6 month old who thinks he owns the house.
Caesar spends most of his days watching cars racing by outside while his nose is pressed up against the glass, pulling miscellaneous objects into his treasure trove (underneath the bed), greeting everyone who walks into the house with his “boxer wiggle”, skidding across the wooden floors and tumbling over from lack of traction and mass amounts of puppy energy, and insisting on getting all 33 pounds of himself into your lap for a quick power nap.
Yes, there has been nights when we have been kept up cleaning accidents or quieting down whines but those nights are completely outweighed by puppy kisses in the morning, excited puppy dances when you come home, and the endless amount of amusement we now have in our lives thanks to Caesar.
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