"You're My Boy, Blue!"

About a week ago, Emily reached up to the counter and knocked down a bowl of her breakfast food while I was preparing it. Our Weimaraner, Blue raced in to devour the mess and ignored all of my attempts to stop him. What Blue doesn't know is that Emily's doctor has advised us to mix 1/2 teaspoon of Miralax (a laxative) into Emily's breakfast each morning. Not a good day for Blue.

Emily loves our dog. Unfortunately, the feeling is not mutual. We're pretty sure the only reason Blue tolerates Emily is because he knows he's not the one we'd choose to keep if there were ever a problem. The exception to this is during mealtimes. Blue's not supposed to eat people food. We fork out an absurd amount of money each month for a prescription dog food for protein allergies to avoid the onslaught of hives, hair loss, and digestive issues he experiences when he eats anything else. Tell that to a two year old! One of Emily's favorite pastimes is to sit in her highchair saying, "Don't feed Blue!" as she chucks bits of her meal overboard. Thanks, Honey.

I'll admit I don't try very hard to stop her. So much of what she does to Blue borders on animal abuse that I feel like the forbidden treats make up for it a little. In the last few days alone I heard myself tell her, "Please don't pour chocolate milk on Blue's head," "Baby, don't feed him plastic," and "I don't think Blue wants you to wash his face." He puts up with a lot.

Then again, so do we. Blue is the poster dog for why every pet owner should buy pet health insurance (the vet is on my Christmas card list). Nail trimmings require a prescription sedative, he whines incessantly the moment we put Em to bed (It's MY turn for attention!) and he's the only hunting dog on the planet who is afraid of feathers. What's wrong with this animal?! Looking back, we did tell the breeder we wanted a goofy family dog. We love him despite his needy and neurotic behavior. As long as he doesn't chew on our daughter, he gets to stick around.