She talks softly to me and caresses me gently and I melt in her loving gaze and tender touch. My eyes close and I drift into the bliss that is the sum of our two hearts sharing our souls.
We are spirit-mates. She is my hooman and I am her furkin. And it is a perfect arrangement, all around.
I am gentle, tender, loving, understanding, thoughtful, young at heart, playful, and a blessing (so says my hooman). I can sit where she can see me from the corner of her eye and I may stay there for many many dog minutes... "staring a thought" into my hooman's mind. "Throw the ball, or bone, or woobie, or the little boy dog who shares our home (::canine snickers:: just kidding) and I will fetch it."
Sometimes I will fall asleep, and my "staring thoughts" will be forgotten. Oh, I'm still facing her, but my eyelids are closed, or my eyes rather roll up into my head and I become a kind of scary, demon-eyed looking dog. My jaw might open a bit and my tongue sometimes hangs out over my lower teeth -- a frightening spooky dog, with a goofy Scooby "like-wow" grin.
Okay, back to my heartguard activities. I call them that as I could never consider them duties, for I love what I do, because I love my hooman. Not only that, but we canines are hard-wired to love, if given the chance, the hoomans in our keeping.
Hmm, eyes are glazing over and I'm starting to drool... must hit the hay with my hooman. More later, my friends...
Wags and furry-armed hugs,
Tucker FurGuy
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