Why my dogs are treated (too) well

Disclaimer: I typed this up in March and never got around to sharing it.  

Jett turned one year old on March 10th.

Happy first birthday to the dog who steals my pillow and worms his way onto my lap whenever he feels like it.  We're convinced you are the alpha-male and first-born of your litter and, while you insist on being recognized by jumping and scratching and clawing, you never leave our sides.  We appreciate that.

I don't know why people get so up in arms about pet owners who treat their animals well.  I know our dogs are spoiled.  They get grain-free dog food.  They get homemade treats.  They get to sleep in a bed.

The dogs were the reason I finally had to give in to Scott's request for "land" in Colorado. They need the space. We researched these dogs and picked them out pretty carefully, so we figure we might as well give them the best we can if we're willing to invest in hunting dogs.  I remember saying something to Scott, when we first got Scout, along the lines of "Eh, we probably don't need that whatever-it-was".  He said, "How much did we pay for him? What was the point of that if we can't spend $8 on whatever-it-was?"  (I clearly don't remember what it was.)

That made perfect sense and that's the route I've taken ever since.

Scout wasn't all that interested in participating.

Anyway, they are much loved and well-cared for because we think they're worth it.  We don't have kids.  We put our energies into these animals.  And I think that's okay.  And to the people who put the dog or cat (or any animal) at the v.e.r.y. bottom of the list when a baby comes along, shame on you. I would have no qualms telling you what I think.  I understand perfectly well that circumstances can be extenuating.  I've accommodated to a lot of lifestyle changes myself in the last few years.  I get it.

But I do know that I would never, ever, ever be able to forget the unconditional love these guys give when I have nothing else around to love.

Jett will wake me up at 3am, most nights, and pretend he has to go outside.  As soon as I get out of bed, he will hop up onto my spot and get comfortable with his head on my pillow.  Even though I've figured this system out, sometimes he really does want to go outside and he won't stop making making noises until he sees that I'm out of bed and then I suppose he decides which route he's going to take: trot to the door or hop up onto the bed.

So, even though he had that run-in with the four-wheeler, this dog does not lack for comfort, so let's not feel too bad for him.