It occurred to me today that in sharing with you my family I’ve neglected to share with you one of our most beloved members. “Beloved” might be a bit strong depending on whom you ask. Let me introduce our dog, Nash.
He’s a 3-year-old shitzu/bichon mix. He was given to us by my parents a few Christmases ago per my request for a puppy. Kyle entertained this idea because he’s a good husband who likes to see his wife happy. He’s not really what you call a “dog person.” Let’s be honest, he’s not really a pet person. He didn’t grow up with pets so I think he saw them as a nuisance more than anything else. I was sure if we got a puppy, he would change his mind. He would grow to love our sweet dog and deem him a part of our family.
When we got Nash, he was about the cutest puppy I’d ever seen. I mean I could’ve eaten up his little face it was so precious. As it turns out, he was a puppy that thought his own poo was fine dining so I decided against eating up his little face. It was so disgusting to watch I remember telling my mom I wasn’t sure I could love a dog that ate his own poo. I mean that’s beyond gross, right? So we got the stuff you sprinkle on the dog food to make their feces less appetizing (can’t even imagine how awful this must be if it’s supposed to make feces less appetizing) and for a while it worked. But if we didn’t use it he just went back to it. Now that he goes outside and does his business on his own I don’t think about it as much. I like to think he doesn’t do this anymore but I rarely find poo in our yard so methinks he hasn’t dropped the habit.
(Look what a cute puppy! You’d want to eat him too.)
Now the thing that has kept Nash alive for the last 3 years is his sweetness. He really is just the sweetest dog in the world. Sometimes his sweetness is overshadowed by his shrill bark, tendency to jump on every human that enters our home, and hiking his leg to mark all his indoor territory, but it’s what’s kept him from sleeping outside many a cold night. He loves to claim all the kids’ stuffed animals as his own so I tell my kids if they don’t want Nash to get it, they better put it out of his reach. And honestly, I used to care. I used to get on to him if he had the kids’ stuff but he’s worn me down over the past 3 years. At this point, I’m just glad he isn’t chewing up every blessed thing in our house. Our first summer with him he chewed up 4 pairs of my flip-flops. It’s amazing he didn’t get sent straight to the pound that summer. Or at the very least, go to live with his Nana.
I’ve said before that I could write a children’s book series based on Nash the dog. He is prone to shenanigans so I don’t think I’d have a hard time coming up with material. I think this dog has given me as many gray hairs as the children have. Literally. But I do have a soft spot in my heart for old Nash. There will never be anyone as excited to see me when I get home and no one likes riding in the car with me more than him. He really is a good little companion. And I like the way he turns his head when I talk to him like he truly does understand what I’m saying. I’m sure he’s just waiting to hear the magic words “treat” or “walk” but it makes me feel good anyway.
As for my husband’s feelings for Nash, I think he would agree he “likes” him. I also think he would include him as part of our family. This is progress, guys.
I’ll leave you with a little ditty Nash did with Blake. Blake’s on harmonica, Nash is on vocals. Enjoy!
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