Sunday is National Dog Day.
For those of you who failed to get your dog a birthday present or a Christmas gift, you could redeem yourself with a tasty treat or chew toy for your fur baby. Sure, it’s probably a marketing gimmick day — after all I learned about it from a couple of emails trying to get me to promote their products to you the public. I won’t mention them, because those marketers barked up the wrong tree. Ha ha.
My dogs are a bit spoiled, so I’m not sure they’d notice extra treats on their special day. I have two dogs — soon to be three.
My oldest dog, Carmel, is a German short-haired pointer. He’s a bigger dog, and his favorite game is catching flying discs and then bringing them back to me repeatedly to toss again.
The next in age is Honey, a cockapoo who is much, much smaller than Carmel. Honey’s favorite game is to beat Carmel to the said flying disc, run up to me stopping short of full retrieval and then dropping the disc. Carmel retrieves the disc, and Honey’s one goal is to thwart Carmel from handing it to me.
The third dog was just born. He or she is a bloodhound. That’s all I’ve got at this point for you on that one. So back to the other two.
Some longtime readers might remember Carmel from previous columns and know that he’s not bright. He’s a super sweet dog, extremely willful, but Rin Tin Tin he’s not. Lately, though, I’ve suspected there might be more going on between those droopy ears than we originally thought. He’ll be sitting in his kennel and starts dog talking to us. It’s not barking. Just imagine someone playing a game of Chubby Bunnies. “Rahr, rahr, rahr,” he says.
“Do you think so?” I answer.
“Rahr, rahrrr. Rahr rahr rahr,” he responds.
Back and forth it goes. Yes, I talk to my dog as if we understand each other.
My husband and daughter picked out Honey. Honey is smart and thinks he’s a bigger dog than his actual size. Honey escorts us to the different rooms in our house. He stays where we are and just hangs out — unless he can get into a trash can. You know how parents say if their child is too quiet, they must be getting into trouble. Same thing with dogs. And Honey’s vice is trash cans.
For being such a small dog, he exudes confidence in his leaps and bounds. He can sail on and off furniture like Superman. He’s also the best doorbell ever.
But the most special thing about Honey is he gives hugs. He’ll wrap his paws around my neck, give me a big lick and keep me there with his nails until he’s ready to let go. Sometimes, though, he looks at me with his brown eyes so intently that I think he thinks I’d make a tasty morsel.
They are both my sweet babies and I love them bunches. I am sure the newest pup will also be well-loved.
Dogs are special and should be treated as such. They hold a special place in the family. And for those of us who love our dogs, every day is Dog Day.
Sheila Selman is regional editor and digital content editor for The Goshen News. Contact her at email@example.com, on Facebook at Sheila Selman Journalist or on Twitter at @sselman_TGN.