After a year of only one dog, Annie, Daddy’s dog and beautiful girl, we began to wonder if one dog could be so much fun, why not get another? It was only in consideration of Annie and the long, lonely days she spent waiting for us to get home, of course.

The boys were trying to sell me that the anxiety ridden, people pleasing little white dog needed a “buddy”. I resisted, you see, it was just giving my husband a license to pick himself up another personal pet. Annie ADORED Daddy. It was obnoxious being the other woman in the house. Annie would personally herd me to wherever Daddy was. The boys thought it was sweet. I, however, saw through her little game. I have survived, but really, another one?

So, the morning of Father’s Day, just in time my husband and kids Summer Break, there appeared in the local paper THE advertisement. The advertisement featured that same little white, fuzzy face dotted with coal black eyes. “Mom!” Let’s get Dad another dog for Father’s Day! You know Annie would love it! My husbands head swung around, locking his hazel greens on my steely blues and I knew it was just not a suggestion anymore.

The boys and my husband piled in the Prius and drove the 100 or so miles to pick up the newest drama queen of the house. I stayed home with “The Annie”. It was awesome, Me, Annie and her last day of being the star of the household. “Let me know how it feels big girl. Let me know how you feel when you too are usurped by an outrageously expensive little ball of fur.”

From what I heard there were at least 7 litter mates up for selection. My oldest stayed in the car and my youngest eagerly (ADHDish) checked out the puppies. They called and let Annie and I know they found another beautiful girl puppy! Awesome! I’ll bake the cake – not.

A couple of hours later the boys pulled up in the drive. Ever so stressed out, excited, and obviously overwhelmed they entered the front doorway and called out the warning that the new puppy was home.

Annie, missing her boys, was thrilled! She stood up, twirled in circles, and then froze. She smelled the trouble. I looked over, and noticed one thing. Her tail was wagging. It was wagging the wag of the Alpha female. She had to have known!

Poor little Lilly, Lou Lou. To be so cute and have “The Annie” breathing fire upon your very presence. We sat down in the living room, circled up, and took the baby out of her travel box. Oh, and she was a little baby. Younger than Annie when we first picked her up – and what did that baby do? She looked us all in the eye, whined a pathetic little whine, and immediately walked up to the kibble bowl and dug out a morsel. She dropped in down in front of “The Annie” and proceeded to eat. A little mind of her own!

What? Oh, ya, she was fully trained on being a certified pig dog. Annie came from a puppy-millish place. Lilly, raised in the kitchen of a grandmotherly woman who poached a few puppies for a friend….but I digress.

Little Lilly Lou Lou. What a sweet, little baby doll. She ended up being the best friend to Annie. So cute, and so little. She is a runt. True confessions a year later? Our son had dropped her on her head and felt so horrible that he felt he needed to be her indentured servant the rest of her days. (He dropped her 4 inches from the floor, but what is a bleeding heart to do?)

Lilly and Annie eagerly await the opportunity to co-chase evil joggers and walker -by’s from the settee in the front room. Yes, they have their own little couch, with blankets and pillows from which to spend the day observing life go by. Lilly personally has chased the mail-man from the front window so many numerous times – dutifully protecting her family from USPS evilness.

They are a pair, Annie and Lilly. And yes, they are now both Daddy’s Girls. I am mincemeat – only good at giving treats in the morning before dashing off to work. But then, every once in awhile….Annie will come and rest her head on my lap asking for belly pets. That little poser, she really does love me too.

~ Wendy Frye


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