My Maltese oldie has been with me ten years. If I had a kid, he/she would be ten! I never treated him like a dog and he never acted like one. He knows when I'm happy, when I'm joking, when I mean what I say, and when I need an extra pair of ears. Throughout these ten years, I lost him once (grandma left him in the yard too long and he snuck out the fence). That was the worst day of my life. I tear up just remembering the day and I thank God (or whoever above) for giving him back to me. A few months back he gave us a health scare. I know he's getting older but he has quite a few good years left with me. I'm still in search of a house with a HUGE backyard for him.
My baby schnauzer is another story. He really is a dog (if that makes any sense). He's playful, attached, bratty but completely lovable. I forgot what it was like to have a pup. He loves to eat grass and tears them out by the roots. Too bad my backyard is a concrete jungle. Reason why every time he's back at my parents, he thinks their backyard is a buffet. He's usually the one that starts the laughter. I love how he tries to entice his older brother to play with him! He never seems to give up or get tired, but when he does tire, he snores when he sleeps. In the year that we had him, he had weaseled his way not only into my heart, but everyone else's as well (being that my parents initially thought he was related to a rat!).



Well there you are, these two little munchkins are the key to my heart.
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