Enjoying the ‘Dog Days of Forever’

Like many people, we’ve had a number of great dogs over the years. When my husband and I were dating, for my birthday he bought me a miniature Dachshund I named Sam. It was then, when Sam was a puppy, I realized what bizarre little critters dogs are. 
For example: I fed Sam regular old dog food, but now and then I challenged his epicurean appetites with something a little more sophisticated. That is, if anybody finds Brussels sprouts sophisticated. 
I placed five small leftover sprouts into his bowl. Sam sniffed them and then, one-by-one, carefully picked them up and carried them in his mouth to an old towel he liked to chew. When the veggies were all in place on his towel, he proceeded to roll on them. And nope, he never did eat them. Nevertheless, he was a sad-faced pup when I confiscated Sam’s sprouts and tossed them into the garbage disposal.
Shortly thereafter I returned the dog-as-gift experience to my future hubby by finding for him a sweet Irish setter puppy we named Daisy. Together, Sam and Daisy were a bit of an odd couple, size-wise, but they got along fine, and although they were different sized, the color of their coats was nearly identical.
We were a happy little family of four with our two canine “children,” until one day when we surprised a few dog years out of each of them by bringing home a new little bundle of joy, our first-born daughter. 
Arriving home, we placed our girl on the floor and let Sam and Daisy sniff her and thoroughly check her out. My mom, there to help during those first days, nearly fainted. She gave me the proper “germs” lecture about what happens when dogs get too close to babies, and I responded with the “dogs’ mouths are cleaner than peoples’ mouths” retort (which I’m pretty sure isn’t even true given some of the oddities dogs are known to consume). 
Sam and Daisy turned out to be great baby-watchers, I’m happy to report. If my “real” baby got fussy, the two of them, Sam and Daisy, would soon seek me out, looking up at me with questioning eyes as if to say, “Well? Aren’t you going to go pick up our baby?” I came to think of the pair as my personal built-in set of old aunties who took their “nursing” job seriously.
We eventually ventured into lhasa apso territory when our daughters were in school. With a pair of lhasas, it wasn’t long before we entered the breeding world. And may I just say that those dogs served a dual purpose? First, the obvious – they provided many years of fun and companionship to our family. We even hauled them along on vacation. Freddie and Mollie, our primary dogs of that era, eventually found true love and had five litters of the cutest puppies you ever saw. 
And that second purpose that I mentioned above? Well. Getting older, our girls naturally grew interested in boys, so when they begged to watch the birth of the last litter of puppies, I made sure they witnessed the entire process, start to finish. They both wrinkled their noses in disgust and pronounced the whole business “Gross!” Yep, best birth control lesson ever. 
From that last litter we kept one pup that we named Lucky. Lucky came to us as the final pup in Mollie’s final litter. When he arrived, he was still “in the bag” for lack of a more proper description. By now, Mollie was weak and tired, already having five puppies latched on and feeding hungrily. With a fingernail, I broke Lucky free, tapped him on the chest a couple of times, rubbed him softly and the little guy sputtered and took a breath. Hence his name. He lived to be nearly 18 years old and on one of the worst days of my life, I held him as he took his final breath. 
Guess you could call us “dog people,” Mr. H. and I. And I sure don’t think it’s coincidence that “God” spelled backward is “Dog.”