Mister Snorty Snort!

I probably have eighteen different nicknames for our thirteen-year-old Boston Terrier, Bugsy.  He must have a different name for each of his moods, and for each of his bodily functions....  I'm not sure what to call him right now, I just know I can hear him furiously licking my hubby's leg - he seems to have this OCD thing with his tongue - like his tongue is constantly compelled to lick something.  I really think he has no control over it! 

So the old man will be 13 this week...we've recently decided, you know - since we're now officially married, and everything, it's time for a new addition to our little family!  Lucky for him, I prefer babies of the more "hairy" variety...and with two extra legs.  That's right...I think it's time for another Boston Terrier.

We went over it...and over it...and finally we decided it's the best thing to do, for all involved.  I mean, while I normally prefer larger dogs - you know, the kinda dog you just wanna smack on the butt and rough him up a little, tell him what a good boy he iiizzhh?  That's the kinda dog this gal is used to.  But there was always something about a Boston that attracted me, from my first close-encounter with one around the age of thirteen....*dreamy look*

"Charlie" was his name.  He was about fifteen when I first met him on the sidewalk in front of our suburban Houston home.  The man who walked him every day had to be in his mid-sixties; he told me from the start that Charlie kept him young.  Before those two characters, I had never met anyone speak so fondly - or so proudly - of their pet.  Even at fifteen, there was a gleam in Charlie's bulging eye that led you to believe he was much younger than his age.  There was an energy about this little bundle of joy that drew you to him, that made you instantly fall in love with his mischievous little grin.

I decided then and there, I would have a Boston one day!

Okay, so I don't tell many people this, but Bugsy was probably one of the biggest things my hubby had going for him when we first met.  Now don't get me wrong, I was instantly smitten with the man and all that, but meeting Bugsy after our third date pretty much sealed the deal.  If he asks me if I can remember when I fell in love with him?  I can tell him.  "It was when Bugsy jumped on my lap and actually quit licking me long enough to actually pet him and hold him like a baby!"  It was...it was a huge breakthrough for us. 

Bugsy was the first dog I ever had that did the little "kick thing" they do after they go potty.  I can remember how hard I laughed the first time I ever saw him do that!  For such a thick little dog, I was always surprised at his endless amount of energy, and how he could nearly jump to my chin when he was excited about something.  He was so handsome with his sleek, shiny coat and muscular little chest.  He loved to play frisbee and eat basketballs.  Ah, good times, my friend!

Maybe getting him a little girlfriend will bring back some of that playful side I miss so much.  His vision started to go around Christmas this past year, and it took him bumping into walls before we realized we might have a problem.  Then his hearing seemed to dissipate almost overnight; luckily we're all psychically linked, so he knows we're home before I get a chance to wake him up!  (Well...some days....)

I do have to say, I think I like the older, more mellowed-out Bugsy a little better.  He gives me more chances to love on him, rather than feeling compelled to consistently jump from one room to another, keeping on the lookout for intruders at all times, and of course, the constant, constant licking.  So he farts like an old man (yes, even as he walks on by), and he snores louder than my dad (whom we could all hear from across the house) aaannd of course, he snorts like a...well like a snorty snort!  And that's what he is.  Aren't you, Mister Snorty Snort!  Rosy Cheeks, Cutie Booty!  What a good dog.  He's the best damn doggy in the world!