Memoirs of a Fat Girl

You know someone is a good person if they are good to your child.

That said, your child doesn’t necessarily have to be your biological offspring or even anything living; it’s what you love with your whole heart. Your child can be your work, your garden, or the car you redid yourself. Or, as is the case with me, your child is your pet.

Blue is my baby, the child I never gave birth to, but rocked to sleep anyway when he was just a tiny puppy, sad at being separated from his litter. I knew he’d made me his mommy barely a week into having him when, just like that, mornings became the time when he would smother my face with kisses. If kids are indeed in my future, believe me when I tell you that I’ll always consider Blue to be my first.

The list of people I trust Blue with is small. My family, Sandy; a very small group of friends. You don’t just hand over your heart when you’re not sure. Those who have mistreated my dog have gotten a piece of my mind (at least), and never saw us again. Those who have loved him, taken care of him, I’ve adopted forever.

A few weeks ago, our list grew. On a beautiful, perfect sky Sunday, I packed Blue into the car and drove over to a barbecue at Sandy’s house. His whole family was gathered there, and I was eager to introduce the furry l’il kid of mine they were always hearing about.

Even though he never does it with people he doesn’t know well, Blue kept tossing the ball at the feet of Sandy’s dad. And before his mom left later on that day, Blue approached her shyly, tail a-wagging, to lick her nose.

He rested his head on Sandy’s sister’s lap to look at her with those huge brown eyes, and Sandy’s brother-in-law got the five-star Blue greeting, as if he’d known him his whole life. Sandy’s nephew he just adored, running and barking in delight whenever a soccer ball flew up for him to chase.

But Blue’s favourite (paws down), was the teenage boy who got his undivided attention. Those two played for hours on end, to the point where Blue did all his tricks unprompted, behaving like the little angel I know he is. Blue followed Sandy’s son around in a way that reminded me of his puppy days, licking his cheek at every unexpected moment.

What’s it like to watch your favourite thing in the whole world, your dog, fall madly in love with your boyfriend’s son?

Some things are so good, they’re indescribable. Some things, you just can’t write about.

My life is truly a wonderful place.