12 Feet

Guess what it takes to make me feel happy, secure and loved? 12 feet. Yup – 12. And these aren’t just any ordinary feet. Nor are they a form of measurement. These are furry feet with toenails that click on the wooden floor. These are feet that get cold in the snow and haul in leaves after they’ve walked outside in the fall. They are feet that are lovingly put in my hand when I use the command “shake” – at the hope of a yummy treat.

Attached to these 12 feet are 3 terrific tails. These tails have many uses. They are used as warning signals to tell me that they have to go outside to do their business. They are weapons that knock me in the face when I am sitting on the floor not paying attention. They are bulldozers that knock over glasses of wine that are sitting on the coffee table. When they swing so fast that their whole body shakes with joy and they are the happiest signal of love that I can think of.

Attached to the feet and the tail are fluffy ears and cold noses, soft brown eyes that can melt my heart when they look into my soul and long, wet tongues that offer up kisses or lick tears off my cheek.

Then there are the hearts. Their bodies may be small and furry but their hearts are as big as this world. They know nothing but love – and they seem anxious to give more than receive.

Their brains may not be as developed as humans, but in some ways they are wiser than we are. They don’t judge or make fun of anyone. They don’t speak badly of anyone. They are happy just being with us. It feels great to be so adored! They don’t expect much in return. They hope for food and water and a warm place to sleep. They crave love and affection and attention and a great scratch behind the ears.

They are more than dogs. They are feet warmers on cold nights. They are great vacuum cleaners. They also help save room in the garbage disposal, and can help pre-clean the dishes before they go in the dishwasher.

They are TV pillows, alarm clocks, company on walks, hikers, swimmers, great snugglers and awesome listeners. They are protectors and doorbells. They are non-judgmental, love my odd humor and listen to my stories without interrupting. They follow me to the kitchen, the bathroom, my office and the living room – and would follow me to the end of the earth if I asked them. They sleep in bed with us, and are great at just hanging out.

I accept them in good times and bad: for doggy mats and slobber, for dumped over garbage cans and dog hair in my cereal. For muddy footprints and clumps of black fur on the tan carpet, for stealing the covers and stealing the last cookie.

These are the best 12 feet of my life. And I love them all – inch by inch.