The love of dogs

Every time I visit my boyfriend, Whiskey and Baby always make hell of a spectacle of my arrival.

Baby, the bigger dog, does full-body wags.

Whiskey does leap around like a little pup and pee a little bit as he gets way too excited.

I usually accommodate both of their excitable greetings by running around the garage with them. Both kids then expose their bellies.

Since Baby usually prefers to stay outside, Whiskey follows me everywhere around the house.

Eeeeeeeverywhere.

Except the bathroom.

He sleeps on my lap, holds a lot of eye contacts, and makes sure I’m always nearby.

Isn’t it amazing how dogs have this huge, constant capacity to love – to form loving relationship with humans. I’m not bothered at all that Whiskey and Baby don’t understand how to shake, roll over, or play dead. The fact that they’re potty trained and don’t play bite with humans already makes me beyond grateful.

Wait. Do they? Do they actually love me or do they just do all those cute little things I interpret as love?

If it isn't love, then why does it feel so good???