Thursday, November 12, 2009


Today (well, everyday, really) I am grateful for my dog, Mojo, and in particular for the humongous party he throws every time I come home. No matter where I've been or how long I've been gone, my return is cause for joyous celebration.

He barks, he whines, he waggles his head back and forth. He throws his whole self into the air and spins like a top. He races around the house. He is the very essence of exuberance. The party ends only after I have hugged him and petted him and allowed both my hands to be washed. Thoroughly. He's not sure where I go each day, but he's pretty sure I'm getting my hands all icky out there. He takes his clean-up job very seriously.

It is, quite frankly, marvelous. No matter how crappy the work day or the weather, no matter how tired I am or how achy I might be, how could I not love coming home to that?

And, really, look at that face. How could you not love that?


Mary Catherine said...

It's the homecoming part that makes me so enamored with Frank the cat. In the twilight of dawn, I pull up to the house and always (always!) he's right at the car door - he'd open it carriage attendant-like if only he could.

Renee said...

Harley does the same. It's the best.

Kaethe said...

The Greys, being cats, are more restrained, but I get a version of the same thing. It's wonderful to have someone be so happy to see you and not to ask anything in return. Except some scritches.

Lisa said...

Which must be why I have four critters -- I need a lot of homecoming gratitude. And they never let me down.

That Mojo is turning into a real handsome boy.