when dog becomes chopped liver

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Fin is my dog. I have had him since I was 19 years old. He has moved with me, been there for my break-ups, watched me eat pizza at 2am after a night at the pub, and loved me through it. He’s my own personal Tom Hanks. He keeps things light, cracks me up, and makes me feel great. I love him.

The thing about Fin is…. he’s never been my baby. Some people love their dogs like children, and he was never that for me. He was more of a bum roommate who slept in “community rooms” too often… He is the roommate that needed me to come home because he locked himself out… except more like… he needed to pee.

I love him. But after we had a baby, he went from hero to zero. And it is really sad. I got a pug specifically BECAUSE they are great with babies… but now barely see him. I take him out for sunshine and I feed him.. but he knows…and I know… some love has been lost between us.

As I write this, I consider the good old days when on a hot sunny summer day I would take him for a long hike at a local  dog park. Or I might take him for a treat at the local pet store if he was really good. He and I used to hang out and have a beer at a beer garden by the river. But alas, now he is a couch dog floor dog who can get no satisfaction.

Poor Fin deserves better. Anouk LOVES him. Jay tolerates him. And I should be grateful for the companionship from him. Today is the day that Fin becomes a part of the family. The genuine draft, no-longer-floor-pug-but-couch-living-dog, who goes into his grave one day having lived the life.

 

Cheers, Fin!

Fin and Jay
Fin and Jay

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