There is an unsung hero in our home. Always present, lingering in the background of our lives, unless food or visitors nudge him forward.
Although it is hard for him to go unnoticed, he often does. Until 8:00 PM rolls around and he comes to lay at the corner of the couch, like an older sibling that gets to stay up for a secret bowl of ice cream after the smaller one is in bed. In his case the treat is attention in the form of a back rub with my feet.
I love my stinky, rotten to the core, mess of a dog. She does, too.
And just when I start to feel bad that the ship sailed 17 months ago on his life as an only child. I realize that maybe instead his ship is just now coming in.