Big Sister Sydney

I have a confession. I don't really like our dog. I know that sounds harsh, but she is a pain. She's destructive and needy. Before I met Dan, she already had a list of things that she had destroyed, including a remote, a cell phone, carpet, and other stuff I'm sure. The first time Dan and I hung out, I wore light khaki pants and a white shirt. You know where this is going. I spent the entire evening with little dirty paw prints on my pants and shirt, and was so self-concious about it the whole night. (I admit this is silly, considering it was Dan's dog that had put them there--not like I showed up a mess!) We moved and Sydney dug under the fence, we moved again and she tore up a window screen, dug under a different fence, scratched up the back door, tore up more carpet...you get the idea.

We moved to Hawaii and she had messed up every screen she can reach, broke panes of window, and has gone through the back door which leads out onto our patio. (No, this would not be significant if the door had not been closed when she went through it!!!!)

So...the dog. Dan and I have talked about giving her away to someone with tons of land, where there are other dogs to play with and hopefully no screens, or doors, or windows to break. But then Dan reminds me that he had Sydney since she was a puppy, and that if given a choice between Sydney and me...well....it'd be close. So, the dog stays.

I am telling you all of this because Sydney is also the sweetest, best, most loving dog I've ever met. She tears things up whenever she's alone because she is just so anxious and misses us so much. She scratches up doors because she believes we are inside, needing her attention as much she needs ours. I know this. And I put up with her because Dan loves her, but more than that, for moments like this:

Here's a happy boy, playing with a pile of books.

Oh, he's looking up. Does he see his mother, his favorite person in the world, is he happy to see her coming towards him, wanting to play with him or read him a story?

Nope. His favorite person happens to be this crazy mutt I've been ranting about.

Alex loves Sydney. Alex has this little humming noise he makes whenever he smiles. It's the sound of a smile. A low, happy hum. Sydney makes him smile and hum whenever she walks by. Alex will scoot across the floor toward Sydney much faster than he will to get to me!

And the affection is mutual. Of course, we were concerned about bringing Alex into the house with such a big, energetic dog around, but Sydney has been the best dog we could have hoped for. When Alex cries, she licks his head, as she probably would to comfort puppies. She comes to get me when she hears him cry in his room, and looks at me as if to say, "Do you hear that? Can we go help him now?" She is gentle and careful and (almost) never steps on him (only when she's excited about something else does she forget where her feet are, but we can usually gauge that and move him out of the danger zone). She sometimes brings him her toys, and drops them right in front of him. She lays down outside of his room when he goes to sleep. And it goes on.

They are best friends, even though Alex likes to stick his hands in her fur and yank, and even though sometimes Sydney gets carried away and licks Alex's face until he actually has slober streaks on his little cheeks.

And so, the dog has to stay. We will continue to fix screens and replace doors, we will continue to take Sydney out to poop in the rain, and we'll probably lose another few expensive items to the anxiety of the most annoying, sweetest, most destructive, gentlest, craziest and bestest dog in the world.