Emma

When I think of love at first sight, I think of Emma. She was already 2 years old when I saw her at the adoption center, and I remember being completely undone by her gentle demeanor, and the way her tail wagged each time I pet her head. She seemed calm. Intelligent. Obedient.

She fooled me good.

For the first two months, I would come home to little presents strategically deposited under my bed.  To this day, I cannot leave the dining table without having moved all of my plates to some place unreachable. One time, I returned after a brief phone call and caught her with a mouth full of nachos. She was paw-deep in cheese and beans with her tail whipping from side to side in pure canine ecstasy. That night, I woke up every three hours to clean up her vomit.  Amused, I was not. Emma is my alarm clock. It seems to be always set at 6am without a snooze option.

Still, I love her to pieces. I can tell she loves me too, even when I'm yelling at her. Even when I come home late days in a row, even when I'm tipsy at 2am and force her to into a dog-human cuddle against her will.

Thanks, Emmerton :)