A Week

A week passes so quickly. Time in general passes quickly. Tomorrow is 2 weeks from when I got dear Kusy. I have gotten so many comments from people about my dog when I go for walks- usually from elderly (not hobbly elderly that can barely walk, the elderly that have gray hair but are more physically capable and are no older than 65 or 70) women. Usually from elderly/older than middle aged people in general.
I haven't even had Kusy for two weeks, and already it's hard to imagine life without him. I love the way his ears flop in the wind and they way he rolls around in the grass. The way he twitches in his sleep and snores and grunts. The way he coughs- although his kennel cough has gotten much better. The way he freaks out when he sees a rabbit and the way he goes insane and runs in circles like a little puppy. And so much more about him. That's not to say he's the perfect dog- far from it. He's afraid of men and has horrible seperation anxiety- if we leave him alone for even ten minutes he slides the bottom out from his crate, shreds the towel underneath, barks and howls and whines, and pees. He's stubborn as a mule and he goes crazy- too crazy- about food. Much as I love him, he's not my dream dog. My dream dog would be a tad larger, less stubborn and more open to learning (despite his low rating of intelligence, the Beagle is quite quite smart, I assure you, it's just that he's a little reluctant to learn commands). I feel a little guilty saying that- but it's true. I love Kusy so much, but despite his charm and loyalty and love and everything else, he's not my dream dog. I'm not saying I'd rather have a different dog than Kusy- I'm not. I don't want to be. I love Kusy and the way he runs and jumps after food, the way you can trick him into sitting without a treat, and the way he slobbers all over you when he puts his head on your knee. I love Kusy in general. And I can't wait to see what else dogdom has in store for me.