Boober is an Old Lady

Boober is an Old Lady, originally uploaded by esserboo.

My golden retriever, Esste, is getting pretty old. She was 9 this spring.

She was our first baby, the "experiment" in whether we could hack it as parents. She turned out pretty great.

She is the sweetest and most gentle dog. She is amazing with the kids and can tolerate all kinds of love (hair yanking and dog mashing) and adoration (attempting to ride her and dress her) with nary a whimper of protest.

She is also a handy Hoover-helper with food related child messes, including vomit and excrement. (Too much information for some of you? I guess that you are not kid people or dog people if you didn't see that one coming.)

But now she mostly sleeps on the sofa and steers clear of the baby, as if to say: I know what that horrible thing is about. That thing wants to poke my eyes and chew on my ears and frankly, I'm too old for that shit. Maybe I'll check it out when it gets old enough to start doling out snacks when the Mama is distracted. This one has no food. Bah!

Then she usually looks at me inquiringly like: Are you done yet woman? No more children please. I am old and I don't see too well anymore. And then she wonders off to safer climes.

But she still sleeps at my feet every night and follows me from room to room, slumping on the softest available surface with a sigh as I scurry about.

I feel pretty guilty about her sometimes. She gets only the "left-over" love. She gets the attention and affection I have left after I have devoted my day to the kids, the laundry, the Hubby, the computer, and the practice (Not necessarily in that order.)

But never the less, I do love her and I worry that she will be gone before I know it. And before Peevers is big enough to play dress up with her.

So, a hearty shout out to my Esserboo Dog. I love you houndy!