Meet my granddog, Mindy.
She came all the way from Kentucky to see me this past week. She's such a good granddog. She always remembers to stay on tile and never get on the carpeted areas.
When it came time to go home, she looked at me with big, sad, black eyes. She can't hear much these days, and like a lot of older folks, her arthritus bothers her, but she never complains, and she's still a sweetie. She understands what's going on.
The trip takes about 16 hours to get back home to Kentucky. Her parents divided the trip into two days, and they stopped often to let her excercise. At one point on the second day, she walked around in the rest area, but when it came time to return to the truck and the road, she merely looked at them as if to say, "I'm not getting back in there." So they walked around some more.
She loves to beg me for food, and I sneak her a bite when her parents aren't looking. Her "real" food was in the utility room, but she didn't want it. My hubby called her to her bowl. He looked down at her; she gazed up at him, and then he pointed to the food. "Mindy, eat your dinner." And she did! Children should be so obedient, right?
Grandchildren are the delights of our life, agree? Well, so is my granddog. I can spoil her as much as I want and then she goes home.
It becomes her parents job to undo the favored treatment I gave her, and I had so much fun spoiling her.
Love you, Mindy girl!