The Love of My Life

This:

is my dog, Malcolm.

He's eight years old. Fifty-six in dog years. He ages well.

He likes to wear his bow.

He has a ticklish spot.

He actually smells good (most of the time)!

He used to walk on the back of the couch like a cat.

Sometimes he has asthma attacks.

He is very photogenic. Obviously.

He howls when he hears a siren.

He always leaves his back end out when he sleeps under the bed.

Malcolm loves:

Celebrating his birthday

Being wrapped in a blanket and held like a baby

or just being wrapped in a blanket, period.

When we leave our laundry piles out so he can sleep on them.

Getting his head, back, or tummy scratched, rubbed, or petted.

(He refuses to keep his legs closed when he lays on his back.)

And of course, snuggling.

He also loves:

Playing soccer

Chewing soccer balls
Cleaning up the floor after dinner
Barking at the neighbor's cat at all hours of the day or night

Barking at the squirrel that likes to hang out on our fence

Barking for no reason at all

Grapes (and any other fruit)
Playing ball until he can hardly breathe
Going for walks
Riding in the car with his head out the window

Malcolm hates:

Being left home alone

Fleas

Physical violence (such as hugging, piggy back rides, etc.)

Loud noises

Wearing his cone

Swimming. Because his legs are too short. He tends to flip over.

What would we do without our little Malcolm.