The Purest Love

One of the very first thing people learn about me is that I love my dogs. Scratch that – I love all dogs – most dogs – but especially mine. Remember that video from a few years ago of that lady on eHarmony talking about how much she loved cats? And she was crying because she wanted all the cats and was going to put bows on them? That pretty accurately sums up how I feel about dogs – except I’m not joking. I instantly fall in love with any dog I pass on the sidewalk, and I genuinely miss random dogs I happen to meet. I can’t help it, they just have such an infectious happiness that makes everything seem so much brighter.

Today, I want to talk about my dogs a little bit – I treat my dogs like most people treat their kids. I take a thousand photos, I work them into every conversation I can, and I’m constantly telling stories about the funny, cute things they do even though honestly? No one cares to hear them. Basically, I’m that annoying girl you went to high school with who floods your Facebook feed with 1000 photos of her kid that all look the same, and you’re pretty sure she forgot that she like, existed before her kid was born – except my dogs are cute than babies. #SorryNotSorry.



This is Chloe. Chloe is a white Labrador Retriever, with like, 10% pit bull mixed in. My family rescued Chloe from a shelter when she was 6 months old. When she came to us, she was terrified of …well, everything. People, water, stairs, doors, black clothing, noise, everything. The only source of peace she found in our house for the first little while was her kennel. She slept in a nice, big kennel with a fluffy bed (that she promptly ate), and she loved it. In fact, 4 and a half years later, she only just recently stopped spending nights in her kennel. We’ve spent a lot of time trying to rid Chloe of her demons – we think she was abused for the first 6 months of her life, before we got her, and that’s why she was so afraid of her new home. All these years later, and we still can’t get her anywhere near running water, and she still doesn’t get on well with strangers, mostly strange men. She’s full of love though, and always wants to be touched, pet, and snuggled. She’s a wonderful guard dog, she’s insanely lazy, and sometimes I think she doesn’t like me very much but I can’t imagine not having her around.


This is Tucker. Tucker is a… Well, I was told that Tucker is an American Bulldog, but she’s growing up to look more like a Boxer. She is a registered American Bulldog though, so who really knows. Tucker came into my life at a time when I needed her a lot. My dog Ben passed away while I was on a trip last summer, and I was devastated, as you can imagine. Ben was such an amazing part of life; he comforted you like a brother, played with you like a best friend, and had the personality of your favourite grandfather – a little grumpy, sometimes unintentionally hilarious,  but mostly incredibly sweet.
The first time I met Tucker was 4 days after Ben was put down. She was this crazy, wiggly little ball of energy. She immediately jumped on me and knocked me over (at 3 months old!) and wanted to play so badly. I started crying right there, because I missed Ben so much. But I don’t think I’ve had much of a chance to miss him since Tucker’s been around, to be honest, because they are so similar. She has the same funny habits and quirks as he did. She does the same things that he did when she wants attention, food, toys, anything. If I believed in reincarnation, I would absolutely say that Ben’s soul went into Tucker’s body, because this dog has never felt like a stranger. She was never intended to replace Ben’s spot in my heart but she’s certainly done an amazing job of filling the hole that he left behind.

These babes are a big part of what makes my world go ’round. They’re a bright spot in my every day, and even when I’m angry with everyone else, I know these two are always on my side.


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