Before I came along, PiePie lived here all alone.....almost. He had his trusty sidekick, Harley. You can see Harley below, on the left. He and Harley were buddies. Harley was company for him to come home to; Harley needed him. He needed to be needed. Don't we all? I should think so, in some form or fashion! Harley is and was and will always be his pride and joy, and that is fine with me. :) Are you wondering yet why we are having Ode to Harley Day? It's because my writing block continues, and as I was sitting beside the PiePie tonight, listening to him talk to Harley like he was a real person, and watching as Harley cocked his head this way and that, as if to speak back, I knew that my bloggity bloggy post was formulating in this noggin' o' mine. You see...PiePie is the atypical man...that is, at least, if you compare him to the stereotypical man. He does laundry. He cleans. He does dishes. He makes the bed. He leaves the toilet seat down when he is done. (Perhaps my favorite aspect, especially at 4:00 a.m. when I seem to always need to make my way to the throne....no one likes falling in, especially in the dark.) He also has manners. But here's the thing: I swear he taught his dog manners. Harley has a bad habit of "drinking" if it can be referred to as such by sounding like a very thirsty horse in the middle of a very big desert on day 12. PiePie can say, "Harley, you slobberin' dog, stop it! Don't drink like that! You sound like a horse!" And do you know that Harley stops drinking like that? He also doesn't jump, and does a myriad of other "tricks" which I find endearing. Lately, our four-legged friend has become afraid of the vents in the floor. The best we can figure, maybe he was laying on one when it came on, and scared the beejeezers out of him, and now he is deathly afraid of them....who knows. So tonight, when Harley was asking his owner to PLEASE help him into the living room from the kitchen and PiePie told him to come on through, because nothing was going to hurt him, Harley cocked his head this way, made a noise that way, stuck his head down, and skulked right past that vent like he was somebody. This is where the blog post was born. I love how he talks to them (Emma's on the right.) like they are people, and how they respond....sort of like people.
Emma came to live at Perry's Paradise shortly after I did. We got the bright idea that we were going to raise Boxers, sort of like I raised Boggles in a previously lifetime. Yes, this plan wasn't the brightest one we've ever had...but anyways....we went and met Emma's she-owner about 2 hours away, and I wrestled with her, checked her teeth, her temperament, asked a ton of questions, and we ultimately decided to take her home with us, a decision I was SURE we would regret soon, but one that we actually never did regret. Emma's he-owner was abusive, so the she was trying to find a good home for her when along came PiePie and Honey. I suppose Emma was so grateful to be away from Mr. Abusive Pants that she decided to let Harley show her the ropes. She never used the potty in the house (my fear) and she fit right in with no problem. It's like they were made for each other. This being said of two spoiled adult dogs, I should think, would be unusual. Emma has tolerated Anna from the beginning, too....she can wrestle with them, fight with them, sleep with them, and go out and play and be guarded by them. They are her friends, and she is theirs. :)
Back to PiePie and the doggers....I love that he refers to me as "Mama" when he talks to them, mainly when he thinks I don't hear him, and I don't care how dorky that sounds. What I love even more is that when he asked me if I let them out this morning, this is what he said: Honey, did you let the kids out to play this morning???? And it was at that moment that I was reminded, for the first time today, why I love him. :) Sappy, yes, but again, I don't care! :)
It's funny how "just animals" can complete a family, isn't it? They are not "just animals" when they are yours. :)