My Puppy therefore i am

Most people who know me, know all about my better half. My endearing and wonderful-"rainy day partner"-midnight ghosts chaser-tear wiper-piano singer best friend. My one and only Mischief (puppi-doo-doo, michu, michikins, mischu, brat, ass, black beauty).

When my first dog died, my mother was broken hearted. Though supposedly Snowy was my birthday present she was my mothers darling. After she died my mother did not so much as look at another dog. Thats where me and my sister stepped in. We presented her with a gorgeous, hunky, adorable spaniel puppy. The perfect little angel to calm everyone down or so we thought!

Actually Mischief darling did everything but that. Within a month of his arrival he had already fallen very sick (got parasites in his blood.. all of us doing 24/7 nursing), all my mothers furniture had doggy marks, the carpets had been chewed, my pooh bear had been victimised, my sisters room had become a "doggy hospital" and of course our lives had been turned upside down. My puppy had truly lived up to his name.

But despite all his roguishness and ability to create perfectly ordered chaos, this whimpering black beauty marked creature has become the sane mainstay of my crazy family. He is the proud bearer of the "baby of the family" and more importantly my "choc-a loc baby". He loves siting beside me, while I play the piano, as if understanding the badly played music. He loves siting on my lap while i watch tv or chat online, dying to bang his paws on my poor keyboard (he loves my friends). He makes whiny faces while I eat chocolate and happy yelps when i give him toast. And anyone who has the guts to hit me, has to answer to him. He is the first person I see in the morning, with his wet nose on my face and hes the last person I kiss before going to bed. He gives me assurance on scary nights, support on trying days, love on depressing mornings and happiness by just being there.

And without him, god knows what I would do.