Friday, March 26, 2010

Beauregard Fitzgerald Montgomery Ward. Happy belated birthday to you, sir.

I like Brian and me, the two of us, our relationship, better, with a dog.

I'm sure Bo will have to take a back seat when the rest of our family decides to join us, but for now, he's our baby. We can bond over him. He's a story that I can tell Brian when he gets home from work - one of the only stories I can tell him about my day in which he is really engrossed. He laughs and comments. He pets Bo proudly.

Around four in the afternoon, Bo starts watching for Brian to come home. It doesn't matter that Brian won't be home for well over an hour. Any noise and movement at the top of the driveway is heralded loudly and I find myself running to the door several times to see if Brian's pulled in. When the Kia finally sweeps into its parking place, Bo spins endlessly in front of the door, making low, guttural noises, madly wagging his tail, and scattering the rugs and shoes all over the entryway. He bounds out when I finally get the door open and his entire body wags. "What's my Bo doing?" Brian asks him, crouching down to pet and play. Meanwhile, I stand in the doorframe to watch in pleasure the excitement of my dog, the way his ears pin back and his head lowers and he rubs frantically on Brian's knees before taking off into a "chase me" sprint. I used to walk out to the car to compete for a hug, but now, I know better. I wait until Brian makes it to the door after running around the car and chasing an exuberant Bo. When Brian finally makes it into the house, Bo bounds past us and heads for his toy box to find his rope. There's no one he loves to tug with as much as Brian.

In the evening, after catching up on the day's cache of Fox News Online, Brian climbs off the couch and lowers himself onto Bo's big pillow bed. He lays behind him and gives him a firm belly rub. Bo flips onto his back and squirms in enjoyment. "Come pet The Bo with me," Brian invites, patting the bed on the other side of our dog. I lay down and we pet Bo together, admiring him. I tell him just how cute he is, and Brian reminds him that he is also tough. "You're a vicious little pit bull," he tells him. "My little pit bull guy." It's at this point that Brian makes up songs to sing to Bo. I try to soak up these moments as much as I possibly can. I never thought my husband would be the song-singing papa, and I love it.

This doesn't get old. This won't ever get old. These child-free evenings will end someday, but I'm not going to rush it. I wanted to rush it before Bo came along. I wanted so badly to add something to "Brian and me". I wanted the romance of a family. At these times, Brian would gently remind me that we were going to stick to the plan. And we have stuck to the plan, and I believe we will, after all's said and done. But fifteen months ago, Bo came to live with us, and something wonderful happened. I didn't expect it, but I got my family.

Bo's birthday was on Tuesday. He is two years old, but still very much a puppy, ready to play at a moment's notice. I don't know what he was doing in the eight months before he was ours, but the job's he's done since he got here is monumental. Bo, you will never, ever read this, but thank you. I love you, buddy.

2 comments:

  1. Maegan that was absolutely adorable.....that picture is amazing!!! I miss you guys so much!!!

    ReplyDelete

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