Ruby the dog is my favorite. It’s just that simple.
Here are the reasons. First, Ruby is well behaved. Maybe it’s because of her breed (Golden Doodle), maybe it’s because of her people (son and daughter in law), or maybe it’s just luck. But she is well behaved. Gotta love a well-behaved dog.
Second, Ruby is social. Everywhere she goes, people want to talk to her, and, of course, her owners. “May I say hi?” they ask, followed by all the usual dog chatter and pleasantries. Nobody ever says, “get that dog away from me”, although I might have if I wasn’t related. No, it’s always friendly. Yesterday I witnessed Ruby making friends with two small Chinese kids and their dad, like they were at a petting zoo or something. Those and many other folk enjoyed meeting Ruby that day. Gotta love a dog who makes friends for you.
Third, Ruby looks good. Not too big, not too small, curly golden hair, alert bearing, energy in her step. If Ruby were a human, she would be the prom queen.
But the real reason that Ruby is my favorite is because I am Ruby’s favorite. Simple math. I know this because every time we go there, Ruby looks around the room and chooses to sit by me, the most DLD (dog love deficient) person in the room. This amuses my family, but for me it is deeply gratifying. It is as though Ruby has seen through my profound DLD and chosen to love me anyway, which smacks of the divine, don’t you think? Not only that, she wants to just lick my legs, as if I were a large ice cream cone. If that were any other dog I would think dark thoughts, and perhaps say dark things, but not Ruby. I know that’s just her way of expressing affection, like a kid at Dairy Queen.
I will never be a dog lover, or a dog owner, and I will always think nasty thoughts about dogs on airplanes, dogs in Butchart Gardens, dogs everywhere, dogs underfoot, dogs all the doggone time.
But Ruby is different. She loves me, so I love her. The golden rule by the golden doodle.
Ruby. Best dog ever.
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