This is Chloe, a.k.a. Bubba, or Bubs for short. She's seven, a Dalmatian, addicted to food, and doesn't know what's going on around her half the time. Yet she's brought much joy into my life. Mostly from doing things that are profoundly idiotic.She growls when I hold a tiny digital camera in front of her nose. She likes to chase our cat Sally, but is scared of her too (she swipes, with claws!). She's afraid of tiny dogs, because they remind her of the cat. And when the humans are out of the house, she'll scour the area for food. To get food, she'll reach across kitchen counters, open pantry doors, dig into backpacks and purses, unscrew peanut butter jar lids, and eat the foil that comes with the chocolate. This isn't hypothetical. She's done all of this in the time that I've known her.
On the other hand, she loves to go hiking in Sedona; she enjoys going out for a drive with me; she stands in front of the fridge when she wants food; and she raises her paw at me when she wants love. When I come home from work, she jumps up and stands on her hind legs to lick my face. How can you not love a dog like that?
As I'm typing this up, Bubs is downstairs, waiting for one of two things: 1) her father Billy to come home, or 2) me to come down and feed her. She always wants food. She's like a bottomless pit. But it's all good. She is a lovable sweetie pie. Just like her father.
