My Dog's Better Than Your Dog, My Dog's Better Than Yours...

( FYI: those are the lyrics to a very old televsion commercial for Kennel Ration dog food, in case you're too young to remember. )

Okay, so this is not technically my dog; it's my middle son's dog, Allie. If you read this blog on a regular basis, you already know that, because Allie has made several appearances here already.

She's not mine, but I love her as much as if she was! She and my son lived with us for a few months last summer and fall, and during that time, I became hopelessly attached to her. (My husband did, too; don't let him fool you--he's a total softie.) I cried when she and my son left for their new home in VA and began to yearn for a dog of my own. I even made a few trips to the local humane society to check out some dogs that resembled Allie in pictures; but when I met them "in person," they didn't begin to stack up. The problem was, what I really wanted was not any old dog, but this particular dog. My husband comforted me with assurances that we would probably be seeing Allie again. He believed we would have plenty of opportunities to take care of her, as our son can't bring her along when he does his two weeks of Army Reserve work in MD or when he has to travel for work.

Well, my husband was right. Sure enough, this son called us last week to ask if we would be able to keep Allie with us for the month of May, as he was going to be on the road for the Army and his job, and then for a Las Vegas road trip to meet up with one of our other sons over Memorial Day weekend. I really wanted to do it, but I wondered how in the world we were going to get her. It's such a busy time of year for us, with our youngest son's lacrosse schedule and about a million other things. "I don't know, honey," I said hesitantly and apologetically into the phone, "I don't think there's any way I can talk Dad into driving all that way..." And then my husband piped up, "Tell him we can do it. We'll go down and get her." (By the way, did you know my husband is my hero? "My husband's better than your husband, my husband's better than yours"...but I digress.)

So yesterday morning, we headed down to the D.C. area to pick Allie up. We got there 11 hours later, had a nice dinner last night with our son and our lovely niece and her husband; then we got up today, went to 7:30 a.m. Mass in Georgetown with our boy, and then we turned around and came back home. The traffic wasn't as bad on the return trip, so it only took 10 hours. (Only!) And for that whole 10 hours, Allie was just lying there, with most of her body on a doggie bed in the back seat and her head resting on the arm rest between my husband and myself. She was a perfect angel and didn't make a peep the whole way. When we walked her at rest stops, she did her business and hopped right back into the car and got settled back into position. Aside from picking her head up from time to time to see where we were going, she was about as still as a statue.

I'm telling you, Allie has got to be the best dog in the world. Your dog may be good, but--no offense--this dog is better.