My Dog is Precious.

My dog, Peaches, is 16 years old. We bought her from a breeder when I was in the 5th grade. She was supposed to be a Peekapoo. Josh and I went to either get another Yorkie, after our first dog Moppy (again, who let's a 3 year old name a dog? It's lucky I didn't name the dog Hairy.) was hit by a car, or another miniature dog. Peaches looked different than all her litter, but she ran to the front and started licking Josh's hand. I was busy playing with another puppy with round circles around his eyes. Josh held Peaches in his hands saying, "I want this one." I wasn't sold, but Josh never demanded anything. I put down the dog with glasses, and he handed me Peaches. She began to lick my face, and I knew she would be our new puppy. We have no idea what breed she is. Her mom was a slut and apparently might have slept with a Cocker Spaniel too (appropriately enough). We now say she was a very expensive Cock-a-peekapoo. A very expensive mutt.

Peaches knows about 4 tricks. My mom had her in doggy boot camp when I was in 6th grade. I was supposed to practice tricks with her, but, of course, I thought it'd be more fun to teach her some random tricks instead. So, the Peach knows how to sit, give you a high five, a low five, and, if you cover your eyes and say "peak-a-boo Peaches" she uses both paws to tap your eyes.

I was such a trouble maker.

But Peaches was my confident and my best friend. She slept with me every night on a special pillow at the end of my bed. I'd cry to her about everything, and she's listen patiently and lick away my tears. My mom often says, "if Peaches could talk, I'd love to know all the horrible things you said about me during high school."

Now Peaches is old. She has cataracts and can't hear very well. She spends most of the day sleeping and makes noises because she can't hear herself making them. She sleeps at the bottom of my parents bed, or if she's too tired to jump up, curls up on the carpet. It breaks my heart to leave home after a visit, because my greatest fear is returning home without her there.

My visit home this time around was calm. I got in Friday night late, slept in each day, shopped with my mom, got tapas with a friend in downtown Mobile one night and a glass wine with another friend another night, and basically just hung around with my dog and parents. I was tempted to go to Biloxi and see Gene who working their from Denver, but I needed a long weekend off.

My dog is precious. My mom hates that word. She thinks it sounds too Southern and uneducated. It's the best way to describe my Peaches though. She's so cute and meaningful and fragile. I'm a bit home sick for her.