the friends

People Let Me Tell You ‘Bout My Best Friend…

Remember your elementary school report card, where you were rated Outstanding, Satisfactory, or Needs to Improve on things like “follows instructions”, “shares” and “respects the property of others”?  Well my buddy boy dog is Outstanding.

This is what happened once when his little sister, Lucille McGillicuddy, was still alive, God bless her heaven romping soul:

My sister went on vacation for a week and left her jack russell terrier, Winnie, with us. Winnie was not trustworthy in the piddle department, so whenever my people and I left the house we confined all three dogs in the kitchen.  My dogs, who had long proved trustworthy, were only in the kitchen to keep Winnie company.

The first time we confined them and went out we were greeted at the door by Winnie.  What?  The baby gates were intact and Buddy Boy and Lucille McGillicuddy were snuggled up in the kitchen looking up at me as if to say “We’re Being Have”.  Our little houseguest either jumped or climbed the gate.

The next time we went out we tried confinement again.  And again we were greeted at the door by Winnie upon our return.  This time the gate was knocked completely down, must have fallen over as she was scaling it.  But the impressive thing was that my two friends – the ones who were allowed run of the house – were still in the kitchen.  We couldn’t help but wonder what they were thinking as Winnie made her escape.

Fast forward to a few days ago.  My daughter packed a pbj sandwich and some apple slices and put them in her backpack for lunch.  Training for her new job was completed early so she was home by noon.  She left her backpack hung over a kitchen chair and we went out to lunch.

As I was bringing in a few bags from Trader Joe’s, my daughter said, “Guess who helped herself to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”  Strewn in the hallway just beyond the kitchen was an empty ziploc sandwich bag.  Next to it was a second ziploc bag with a hole in it.  One apple slice was chewed up and spit out onto the floor, the rest of the slices were still in the bag.  Little One, who lived on the streets before we rescued her last year, is an experienced forager.  But she isn’t one for fruit.

Buddy Boy, however, loves fruit – especially apples.  And yet the sandwich was devoured and the fruit was all still there.  Because Buddy Boy Dog respects the property of others and he knew that that was not his apple.

As soon as we surveyed the site I said to my daughter, “Why don’t you give Buddy Boy the apple?”  So she said, “Buddy Boy, do you want some apple?”  And he immediately began to eat it off the floor.

He’s always been like that.  He never pushes open a door that’s ajar, he always waits to be invited in.  I want to be like that.  Take only from God’s hand, wait ’til I’m invited.

He is the best buddy boy ever.  And he’s really cute, too.

*All dog names, except Winifred, have been changed to protect the innocent.

Buddy Boy arbor

© 2015, The Reluctant Baptist

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