The Adoption of Oscar

I've never been a dog person. Not even close. In fact, I've been the opposite for most of my life. We never owned a dog when I was growing up and a stupid one bit me on the ankle when I was 10. (That's how I remember it anyway.) Plus, dogs are loud, covered in slobber, and full of poop. Who needs 'em, right?

Then I met Oscar.

Oscar is our almost-6-year-old Australian Shepherd. He's the greatest dog on the planet. Sure, he sheds a lot. (Also, I'm allergic to him.) He barks a lot. He bites his leash when you try to run with him. And he's fairly incorrigible. But he turns all of that around when he lays down on your lap and asks you to rub his belly.

Now, it wasn't always this way with me and Oscar. When we first met, I wasn't really sure what to make of him; I think he was hesitant, too. (Who is this man in my house? Bark! Why is he sitting so close to that woman that feeds me and picks up my poop? Bark! Wait, do I have to poop now? Bark!) He nipped my hand the first time I played with him. He has yet to apologize.

But then, slowly, we became friends. I learned how to feed him, how to tell him "no," and how to clean  up after him. (This part wasn't so much fun.) I became his official tennis ball thrower and nap cushion. When I went away on trips, I realized I missed him terribly. And the day he was throwing up instead of eating because he ate a cooked hambone the day before (Note to dog owners: Never, ever feed your dog a cooked bone) was one of the longest I can remember.

That's why the conversation Oscar and I had about his adoption was so crucial. Here's the transcript, mostly in photos:

"Oscar, bud, we've come very far. Since I'm married to Bridget, I think it's time we make it official and I adopt you. What do you think?"

"Really?"

"Whoa. This is serious ..."

"I need a minute ..."

So, I gave him some space. Then, he looked up:

"Okay!"

Of all the gifts Bridget has given me in the last two years of our lives (and the first 2.5 months of marriage), it's hard to identify any better than the dog I learned to love. Even if he still barks a lot.