This is my best friend shortly after I brought him home, a little over 2 years ago.
I decided to get him pretty much the second after I told my husband I wanted a divorce and I have never regretted that decision.
My boys had been asking for a dog for a couple of years. Their father and I had a dog before we had kids. She passed away when our youngest son was less than 1. It was hard to get over her, but 8 years after her death the Asshole had new reasons for saying no. We had just moved into a new house, a dog would scratch up the hardwood floors, ruin the carpet, kill the backyard — the list was endless so we didn’t get a dog. The second the Asshole moved out I said “Guess what kids!?! We’re getting a dog!”
Three months later we welcomed this awesome guy into our family. I love him completely and he loves me too, if I’m sure of nothing else, I’m sure of that.
He is always by my side, no matter what I’m doing. The picture above is about a year ago — he was 1 and waiting patiently for me to get myself together so we could go for a walk. He is the most patient, loving dog ever.
He’s a little spoiled . . . . but so are my children and he is very worthy.
One of the things I love most about him is his ability to know how I feel and act accordingly. When I’m sad he encourages me to sit on the floor so he can snuggle with me. If I ignore his request he wraps his big body around my legs to give me the comfort he knows I need.
He usually wakes up before me and sits quietly by the side of the bed waiting for me to open my eyes. When I finally do open my eyes he immediately starts hitting the wall with his big tail, like the best thing in the whole wide world has just happened and he could not be any happier. I love that.
English Mastiffs use to roam a kings property to keep the riff raff out. When they came upon trespassers they didn’t harm them, they laid on them until someone arrived to handle the situation appropriately. They love to lay on you, which is funny, because they are so incredibly huge.
He has been known to help me wake my youngest son by going into his room, getting on the bed and laying across the boy. “Get off of me!” is generally what I hear — the dog obeys and gets off of the boy, but he doesn’t leave the room until the boy gets up — if the boy doesn’t get up he climbs back on the bed and lays across him again — it’s a vicious cycle that the dog does not tire of — the boy does though, because really who wants the threat of 160 pounds and a really big, wet tongue all over you?
Last night as I did some work on my computer and listened to Steven Tyler and the boys sing in the background my puppy (yes, I still call him puppy) laid on the floor sleeping (it is truly one of the things Mastiff’s do best . . . sleep). He had me laughing out loud when the song “Pink” started to play and he started banging his tail on the floor to the beat of the song. He never opened his eyes, it was awesome.
This morning we got up together to enjoy the quiet morning while the boys slept in. I made the mistake of turning on some music that reminded me of B and I cried a little while I did the dishes, off in my own little world. He quietly came into the kitchen, sat down next to me and leaned over onto my legs.
He knew he wasn’t suppose to be in the kitchen, but what he knew even more was that I needed the comfort and he was there to give it. I didn’t fuss at him to get out of the kitchen, I just let him lean into me and reveled in the pure and honest love that he so freely gives.
He is my baby, my pal, my love, my best friend.