I am the proud mommy of a pug. Maggie has been a part of our family for 10 years now. She doesn’t see too well, so she barks at awesome things like trees and people she’s known all her life. She also has a stuffed frog that she nurses on. She's had the same (brand of) frog her whole life. If they ever stop manufacturing this frog, it may be the end of civilization as we know it.
Technically, she’s my dog. In reality, she became my grandparents’ dog the moment they moved in. She keeps them going. She has a routine and they bend to her will. If they aren’t home at her lunchtime, they make sure someone in the house nukes it for exactly 12 seconds and gives it to her at the right time. She truly has them trained.
They, in turn, think she’s a genius. They tell my mom & me how smart Maggie is on a daily basis. My grandpa loves to brag about how she teases the big dogs across the street then kicks dirt at them as she walks back to our house. My grandma will remain still for hours if Maggie is sleeping next to her in their favorite chair.
My grandparents have numerous pictures of their great-grandchildren. You can view these pictures down their hallway. However, a picture of Maggie is front and center on their entertainment center… proudly displayed for all to admire.
I’m not bitter… really, I’m not. All I’m saying is that grandparents aren’t supposed to have favorites. My grandparents have chosen a favorite, and it’s not me. But I’m not bitter… really, I’m not.
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