A Soft Heart

If you asked my husband, Rich, about our having dogs he would adamantly state that they are all mine and he wants no part of them. He would say that he had said NO, we don’t need a dog and we still don’t! The first no came when I was in college and wanted a puppy in the worse way but had no way of keeping one. Rich, on the hand, could because he was farming. After a little sweet talking and a little too much drink he said yes. The next day we had our first puppy, a sheperd-border collie. This puppy soon became Rich’s shadow, where ever Rich went so did Sasha. That bond lasted for over ten years.
Thirty years later the song has not changed, but actions speak louder than words. Every night after work Rich takes the dogs for a long walk. He takes both dogs on a short walk (all Shiloh can handle) and then returns home with Shiloh and continues on with Trekker for a lengthy finish. (The pictures show the dogs waiting impatiently for Rich to come through door ready for their nightly walk. Sometimes it’s a long wait for the impatient Trekker.)
I have allowed the dogs to sleep with us. Over the years Rich has pushed Shiloh into the middle of the bed or made him get down so that he could claim his side. Now I occasionally find Rich sleeping on the sofa. When I ask him why he tells me that Shiloh was comfortable and he just didn’t have the heart to make the old boy move.
A couple of weeks ago I had made a pork roast. After the meal Rich was helping me clean up and was taking forever in clearing the roast. Finally he handed me a bag of meat scraps and said that he had cut it into small bites so that I could give the dogs treats throughout the next week.
Rich’s actions sure speak louder than words and fortunately he doesn’t know how to find my blog because he wouldn’t want the world to know that he is a real softy. He would continue to tell you he never wanted any dog.