A Year with Butter

Today is a big day in the Conservative Boy-Julie-Butter household. It is the one-year anniversary of the day Butter came to live with us.

It's hard to believe it has been a year since this scrawny fellow showed up at our house.


Then, you could see every one of his ribs and his coat came off in big chunks. He was afraid of getting in the Space Turtle to come to our house and afraid to come into the house from the garage once we arrived home. Let's not even talk about how afraid he was of the stairs. And of just about everything. He was a scared puppy. But oh so sweet and handsome, scrawny as he was.


Can you believe we actually thought he couldn't even bark?! Silly us. Fortunately Butter ate a lot and learned quickly. How to go to the bathroom only when he was outside. That the stairs really aren't so scary after all. That he has a big bad bark that is put to good use when anyone appears outside. That the front window is the best place in the whole world to sit and keep an eye on things. That if he looks sweet enough, he can get just about anything he wants (people food, extra walks, rawhide bones, you name it).


Now he runs to the back door the moment we say "bathroom." And he runs to his spot in the hallway the second we say "bed." He sits on that command and listens whenever we say his name or snap. He walks pretty darn well on a leash.

All in all, he's about as wonderful a dog as you could ask for. Sweet and playful and asking for little more than some food and water, a walk or two a day, and lots and lots of petting and attention. (In fact, right now, while I'm writing this, his head is resting in my lap and he's trying desperately to nudge my hand off my keyboard so I'll pet him. He says hi, by the way.)

Needless to say, we lucked out the day we went to the pound "just to look" and Conservative Boy instantly said, upon spotting the sad, dirty white dog, "We'll take him." I thought C.B. was crazy. But it turns out he was right, very right.

Butter is my first dog, and thanks to him I've learned there really is something to that saying, "Man's best friend." (Er ... woman's too.) With a loyal dog right by your side, the world really is a better place. Toothy smiles and slobbery licks can brighten even the roughest day. Dogs have it good, and by extension people who own dogs have it pretty darn good too. Even when he drives us crazy, that playful puppy we brought home on a whim is worth the trouble.

Oh goodness. Look at that. I'm getting all teary. And Butter is looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Come on, Julie," he just said. (Did I mention that dog ownership makes me a bit cuckoo? Well, now you know.) “No one wants to hear you blubber about how great I am. Just post a recent picture and let's go play."

OK, Butter. It's your anniversary. Let's go play.


(By the way, if you have some time on your hands and really don’t have anything better to do—or you're looking to procrastinate so you don't have to scrub the toilet—I suggest you browse the archives on the blog from about a year ago to see for yourself how much Butter has grown and changed. It’s amazing!)