You lick my face. We both know where your tongue has been. And I know you are really only after the salt on my skin. But that’s ok.

You amaze me by your dog hair spreading capacity. It is cunning that you get your hair into an unopened pack of butter. Do you moonlight at the butter factory?

You steal food. But you should at least make sensible choices. You know very well that the outcome has not always been optimal. Not to mention the vet’s bills. Just saying.

Your nose is amazing. You can smell a pack of ham being opened several closed doors away. I have tested. Many times. Never fails.

You roll in substances that I do not want to have on you, on myself and most certainly not in the house. But I guess it’s a dog thing and you are a dog. So, I forgive you.

You bruise my feet and nearly knock me over just saying hello. About 50 times a day. Every day. But in a good way.

You transformed a pair of expensive, brand new school shoes to peep toes overnight. I will say no more. It is was it is. You know who you are.

You have a mean Bernese lean. You bend my knees the wrong way leaving the ligaments screaming. But I’m used to this. Could this perhaps be considered as stretching by the doctor?

You like a good tummy rub. But you are not too chuffed about having a brush. You will have one anyway. Mummy rules.

You like the groomers because they give you gravy bones. And they love you. Even if you leave them and the salon covered up in your hair. As in up to the ceiling. Rather theirs than mine.

You are excited about everything. I need to learn more from you.

You make noises. Dogs are not supposed to be able to speak. But I do know what you are saying.

You would defend me if ever necessary. You have got my back. And I will always have yours.

You rearrange the Christmas tree. Comes with your happy tail. I rearrange the tree and then we do it all over again. On estimate twenty times a day.

You are excited about everything. I need to learn more from you.

You bring me your search toy. I know it is not about the search as such. It is about the treat afterwards. We all do that kind of thing.

You stand on my feet. It is not always comfortable from the physical point of view. But I love the heavy, warm, solid feel of your XL paws. Love hurts sometimes.

You know when I am not feeling too well. And you stay with me. You know what I mean.

You give me your unconditional love. And I give all of mine to you. At times, without you, I would struggle to smile. You shine, every day. I love you.

This is a guest post by Tina Romanov. Want to write for us? Visit www.dogstodaymagazine.co.uk/essay-submission or email editorial@dogstodaymagazine.co.uk

Photo by Tina Romanov

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