My Marriage in Dog Years

Today is our 35th anniversary. I can't believe Chuck has put up with me for 35 years, through thick and thin (more thick than thin). I want to take this opportunity to see our marriage in dog years- how the dogs we've had enriched our marriage and brought us closer together. They've brought out some of our finest qualities.
Determination:
"Damn it! I was here first. I can outlast this dog."

Compassion:
"I'll take her to the vet in the morning. I'm sure they must have something to
de-skunk her."

Perseverance:
"If you bring another animal into this house-I'm leaving!"

Love:
"We don't need to put her to sleep yet. I'll carry her up and down the back stairs when she needs to go out."


Our first dog, Max, was a mutt purchased from Pampered Pets in Kodiak, AK. We had been married only a month and living in a WWII quonset hut with a fuel oil heater. She was a surprise for Chuck. He had always had a dog at home and I was never allowed to have one. So I bought one for him. Or was it for me? When he came home from work the puppy was sitting on one side of the room and I was sitting on the other side- crying.
"I bought you a dog- but I'm afraid you're going to love the dog more than me!" I wailed.
I don't remember what he said- but I know it was perfect and kind and loving, because we became a happy family of three. Max was a wonder dog. She was never on a leash, came when we called, and was an expert at dumpster-diving. When Max died, we shared the pain, leaned on each other, cried, and got through it- together.
Maggie, the next dog, we picked out together. There were several black puppies and this one particularly licked Chuck (yes, licked) . She was rambunctious from the word go and stayed that way. The only problem was- she didn't like kids. She was very protective of me. She would growl at Chuck. This is the same dog that Chuck carried up and down the stairs at the end- because I couldn't part with her.
And now, Cheyenne. Cheyenne and I got off to a rocky start. First of all. she was picked out by Erin. So she's Erin's dog. I didn't feel I could spoil her- because she wasn't my dog. Cheyenne was definitely "pack- leader". I didn't know that a human was supposed to be pack- leader, so I just kept calling her "Bad Dog" and saying, "No bite", "Don't jump", "No pull" and finally, "Damn dog". But I think the three of us have made our peace. She goes for rides with Chuck in the truck. It's his legs she hides under when it thunders. She walks with me and I kindly remove the fork from the plate before I put it on the floor. She still eats the cat food- while it's in the can and she still eats grass and throws up in our bed. But we're all learning- together.

Determination, compassion, perseverance , and love.
And the greatest of these is love.