The Goat

I’m not exactly sure when, or how even, but it happened to me too; I fell in love with her.  Maybe it was her impossibly cute good nature, or her endearing mischievousness (she has a knack for getting into things).  In the 9 months we have had her she has chewed up:

6 pairs of shoes

3 remotes

6 spatulas

13 pens

4 refrigerator magnets

3 Dramamine pills (no ill effects, thank goodness)

3 of the ends of our coffee table

2 pair of kitchen scissors

2 couch pillows

2 wallets (including a $100 bill)

7.5 ounces of raisins (which landed her in the hospital for 2 days)

But instead of getting mad at her, I am amazed at how clever she is.  Just as I think I have found a way to outsmart her and hide a coveted item, she manages to find it, destroy it, digest it, and poop it out without any trouble.  She eats things we couldn’t fathom she would want.  If it is within her reach, she eats it.  We started calling her, “The Goat,” and a nickname has never been so well suited.  I secretly envy her gusto. 



How could I not love this face?

The reasons I fell so madly in love with this dog stretch farther than that, however.  Coco, in all her crazy, yet loveable ways is ours.  The only being that probably will be ours.  Bill and I walk her and feed her and decide on her toys and care together.  We communicate in ways that we didn’t before.  Coco has added a dimension to our relationship that I enjoy. 

We recently celebrated Coco’s 1^st birthday.  We had all her family there, and even though Bill was not thrilled to celebrate a dog’s birthday, he did.  He supported me in my silliness and we all enjoyed watching The Goat eat her cake and her Kong popsicle.