Doggie Days with Domino

This past week I dogsat a dog named Domino. He is a dachshund, a rescue dog, an oldie and a fatty. He barks a lot and does not get along with other dogs we encounter on our walks together. Domino's owners told me, "We're the kind of people who cross the street when we see another dog coming." I get it now. I cross the street with Domino, too.

Domino's main dog attributes are not... traditionally valued, shall we say. He's needy, not playful, and his belly is so fat that it drags on the floor like a pot belly piglet. His snout is almost entirely gray, and it's pretty clear that even in non-dog years, he's very, very old. Still, after the first couple of hours with Domino, I was uncharacteristically smitten. I just love this obese, barking little beast, and I can tell Domino loves me, too.

At nighttime I let him sleep in bed with me, though he needs some assistance because it's too high up for him to jump. The bed is not that high up at all, but I get it--sometimes you just need a boost. He snuggles up against my back as I sleep on my side, making him the smallest big spoon I've ever known. I can feel his little (big!) belly rise and fall as he breathes, and even though he's just a dog, it's nice to feel like someone has my back. I've really missed that.

Yesterday I said goodbye to Domino for the last time as I left for work. I gave him a bone to chew on as a final treat, and he trotted around with it in his mouth like a cigar. What an old man. I'm going to miss him, but maybe I'll soon find someone a little more age/size/species appropriate to be my big spoon.