From the moment I met my Dad <more on that story another time> he had a dog. Always. He was always a major dog lover. There was something so special about the way he was with dogs. Truly. He had a special place in his heart for them. The way he played with them. The way they reacted to him. The connection. The bond. The love.
However Dad’s dogs over the years weren’t always the most well behaved dogs… err they may not have had the best manners. Like at all.
Some barked like lunatics, some were runners and ran away any chance they got, some peed in the house, some tore diapers off of my brothers or pulled gloves off of them as they were playing outside in the snow.
One thing they ALL had in common. If they wanted a treat: Dad was the place to go.
One bite for Dad.. One to the dog…
When I stayed with my parents for a short while I told him to stop feeding my dog Chewy from the table because I didn’t want him to learn begging! Dad would say “I’m not!!!!” With a smirk and then flip him another piece of *whatever* 😳🤦🏼♀️
When he would make bacon in the mornings he would drizzle a lil bit of bacon fat over the dogs kibbles saying “WHAT? It’s good for their coat!” Or popcorn: one kernel for Dad one for the dog…
Did he have the most well behaved dogs? No. Did he create bad habits in every single dog we had in the family? Yes.
But he didn’t care. That didn’t bother him. He just loved the relationship he had with each of them. No matter how overweight they became… 🙄 They loved their Papa. And his popcorn, pancakes, bacon, sausage, roast, chicken, biscuits, salami, chips, cheez nips, animal crackers, donuts………
