One of our friends pointed something out to us-- that Lucky is more like your brother than a dog. He doesn't growl at you- you pull his ears, his tail, his mouth- you take away his toys- and he still comes to see you every day.
He helps clean you up after meals - ok - sometimes you object to your mom wiping your face, but you never seem to mind if Lucky does it.
My brothers were the same way- sometimes they would do for me what my parents couldn't - like when I got in trouble, my brother Jimmy would stand up for me. Or when I was worried I would call my big brother Ron - like the time I pulled a pen apart and got ink all over me and was afraid of what mom would say.
So, maybe Lucky is a bit like your brother.
Most important- the lesson learned is we always need someone in this world to help us along. Someone we can count no to lick our face. I've got your mother- but I want you to know that you always have us. Always,
|Lucky on clean up duty|
|Lucky trying to get back his toy|
|How many dogs would let you have his bone?|