If dogs could talk...

Jonathan and I were discussing tonight that we wish, for just a day, our dogs could talk.

I want to hear what they think of us. Learn what they do all day while we are gone. And what is it exactly about the 3 legged squirrel in the backyard that fascinates them.

I want to know what happened to Jake before we found him in the middle of the road. And if Reese really likes dock diving, or if she just humors me.

But really, I just want to hear their voice.

In my head, Jake's voice is very sophisticated. Like a Harvard professor with a gray beard, wire-rimmed glasses and a cigar.

Reese's voice is very different. It is high-pitched and airy. She would absolutely chew gum and twirl her hair while she talked. Much like the tri-Delt I sat next to in Economics 101.

Jonathan has a very male opinion. He thinks Jake would sound like Hugh Hefner and Reese a cheerleader.

(Ok, the cheerleader and tri-Delt aren't too far apart....)

It's a yellow ball day.

One of my favorite times of the day is the first 10 minutes after I get home from work.

For obvious reasons, yes. But also for these guys:

Meet Jake & Reese, my kids. Jake is a 5 year old lab basenji mix that we rescued from a busy interstate median. And Reese is a 2 year old chocolate lab that I found under the Christmas tree.

But I digress.

Everyday when I get home, the same thing happens. Jake & Reese meet me at the door. Jake tucks his ears back and jumps up to give me a hug. And Reese wags her tail so fast it shakes her entire body and she nearly falls over.

Then we go outside.

Reese picks her toy of choice, and Jake secures the perimeter.



And we play.

Reese will incessantly fetch whatever toy she has chosen, viewing each throw as a new invitation to frolic through the yard. Jake will sniff until he is sure we are intruder free, then join in the festivities.

And without fail, I laugh.

But today was particularly wonderful. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was a breezy 85 degrees. But it was also the first day in a week Jake was allowed to play. (He learned, the hard way, why eating a bottle of prescription medicine is a bad idea. It was a long week, but thankfully his shaved leg is the only lasting evidence.)

Today was a yellow ball day.