One of my beady friends, Deanna, recently blogged about her big dog, Disney, and her desire for a “purse” dog. I can relate. We have a big dog, a rescue greyhound—Rose (former racing name “Antonia Rose”). She’s 9 1/2, blue brindle and a sweetheart for the 6 1/2 years we’ve had her. But she’s not much of a “cuddle” dog. Never got the whole “on the furniture” thing, much less sleeping on a bed. She burrows her head and does a sort of body slam thing to show her love. And she sleeps under my desk at my feet most days.
My daughter wanted a dog for “her own…to cuddle and love and take care of”. We fell for it and ended up with a 5-month-old Maltese puppy who we named Nash (for Steve Nash, awesome Phoenix Suns guard). I think he was about 3 1/2 pounds when we got him. TINY! I remember thinking he looked like a “snack” to a larger dog. Here they both are (Rose looks like she is giving a laser glare).
Fast forward 10 months and he pretty much rules the roost (and Rose ignores him most of the time). He’s my baby, given that I work at home and can see to his every need a little more easily than a 14-year-old can. He sleeps by my keyboard and stares intently at me at times, willing me to scoop him up for a snuggle. Nash is almost cartoonish in his movements, hopping more than running, peeking through somewhat snowy white hair that is always in his eyes.
My daughter is in Colorado this week with grandparents and other family. She and a niece were watching a comedian who did a skit on “what isn’t a dog”. Bottom line, Nash isn’t a dog…more of an accessory it appears…which brings us back to Deanna’s “purse” dog.
Here’s my little guy having a bad hair day:
And here he is more or less groomed and keeping watch: