Ode to Abby

This is a picture of the K-9 lady of the house dressed up in her Christmas gear. She is a very tolerate dog.

Josh and I adopted Abby a little more than 3 years ago. After we got married, we knew we wanted to expand our family, but were not ready for parenthood; at times I'm still not sure we are ready for parenthood. We knew two things as we began our dog hunt- we did not want a puppy and we wanted to adopt a dog. After a long search, we found Lillian, Abby's foster mom, in Northern Virginia. She told us that Abby had been with her for a year and she was rescued from a shelter that was about to put her down.

Abby was found on the side of the road and had scratches on her front legs, she now has deep scars, and most of the teeth were nubs. Lillian was not sure, but she thought Abby was a hunting dog who got away from the pack and likely stuck in a trap and tried to or successfully chewed herself out.

Abby quickly got very comfortable with us. Jumping up on the couch and stealing entire halves of Josh's sandwich became standard protocol. She seemed to connect with me the most- curling up next to me in bed, following me around the house, peeing a little every time I came home from work. She and I would go for 2 to 3 miles walks about 3 to 4 days a week. I pooh-poohed my doctor ordered bed rest in my final weeks of pregnancy and drove Abby to the boardwalk and we would walk 1 mile at a very slow pace. She did not seem to care, as long as we were out- together.

Then Parker came.

Abby has quickly become Josh's dog, so much so that, I now call her his girlfriend. If she has an accident, which happens with more and more frequency as she gets older, I will say to Josh, "Tell your girlfriend to quit peeing in the hall."

When Pman was a wee-bot Abby did not seem to care about him at all unless he was wailing, in which case she would run and hide. Abs hates loudness of any kind. When he learned how to roll over she watched with caution. When he started eating solid food she fell in love. When he started walking she ran for the hills.

Now, Pman realizes that she is a being the house and he loves her. She will stand very still as he tries to crawl under her. She sprawls on the floor like an area rug as he attempts to use her as a race track for his toy cars. She allows him to snuggle up in her tiny dog bed for a quick cuddle. She never nips, bites or even growls at him as he watches her (very closely) as she eats. When she spills her food on the floor, Pmonkey picks it up kibble by kibble and puts each piece back in her dish. I just hope P's (very) future siblings are as accommodating as Abs.

Ever since I was pregnant Abby has been banished from our bed and instead sleeps on an oversized doggy pillow on the floor of our room. Last night around 2a.m. she was hacking on something, likely a hairball, so Josh went to get her a bowl of water...maybe to wash it down, I'm really not sure. She drank some of the water and then proceeded to lick herself all over herself. If you do not have a dog, this will not make sense, but trust me, that is a VERY loud and EXTREMELY annoying noise. After about ten minutes, Josh shoots out of bed and says, "You cannot take a bath in here!" and promptly took Abby downstairs. I stayed in bed and chuckled at his retort.

He apparently let her out and then told her she would be sleeping in her dog bed in the living room for the rest of the night. She had other plans. Minutes later, as Josh and I are trying to go back to sleep, we hear Abby in the hall- curious since the baby gate was suppose to be up. We then heard her throw up in the hall.

I laid in the bed like a sleeping slug, even though I was wide awake- hoping Josh heard the puking noises too and would handle it. SUCCESS! Josh again pulled himself from the bed. He let Abby back out and began the cleaning process. After a few minutes I came down to see if he needed help, although I was hoping he would not.

In the glow of our multi colored Christmas lights, I found Josh in the hall. He was wearing boxers and his winter coat- a military style gray pea coat. He was on his hands and knees with his dress shoes on his hands as gloves as he attempted to pick up plastic grocery bags full of doggie puke.

He told me he had it covered and to go back to bed.

I love him.

This morning as he was leaving for work I said, "Tell your girlfriend if she pukes in the hall in the new house she will find herself with a one way ticket back to Lillian."