John Tesh & Dirty Socks

I was listening to John Tesh on the radio the other day.  He claims that having a dog can bring you and your husband closer together.  Something about petting the dog raises your dopamine level and puts you in a better mood.  So, apparently, when you see your husband’s socks on the floor you care much less.

 Luckily for my husband we have four dogs.  Around here I need to scratch them a lot. 

 I must admit that I don’t feel closer to my husband when I spend time with my dogs.  But I do feel closer to … my dogs.  The positive effects of owning dogs is supposed to spill over into your marriage, but the only thing I feel better about is, well, owning dogs.

 Recently my mother visited and I again extended the olive branch and asked her to move in so I could take care of her.  Her answer?  I would dear, but to be honest, I just don’t think I can take your dogs.  I am still amazed.  How can someone not like those little bundles of furry love?  Next thing you’ll tell me you don’t like my cat. 

 Some people. Eh, her loss.

 What is better than waking up in the morning and rolling over to see two wet eyes excitedly staring back eager to bound out of bed and start the day with you?  Around here those wet eyes belong to Tuffie, not my husband.

 So I scratch Tuffie and I feel closer to him.  This morning I hickuped (as I often do first thing in the morning) and he smiled back at me and promptly burped in my face.  You gotta love a sense of humor like that.

 I mean, dopamine levels not withstanding, you can tell who you are feeling closer to just by the number of pet names you have for them. I don’t have any pet names for my husband but I have a whole list of names for Tuffie.  Most of the time I call him Tuff Tuff but at other times:

 When I am looking for him I say, “Where is my Tuffasaurus?”

 When he is in a bad mood I say, “Little mister Tuffitude” (as in attitude)

 Other times he is my Tufflebug, Tufflewump, or Tuffmeister.

 When he does something stupid (like run into a wall) I call him Tufftard.  Yes, he runs into walls quite a bit.

 He is also Tuffaligum, Tufflemunch (as in crunch and munch the tasty caramel popcorn snack!) and Tufflemuff.

 My husband I just call Darryl.  And I usually say it with a slight attitude. 

 So, with all due respect to John Tesh, I don’t quite agree that I like my husband any more because of my dogs.  I will admit that having Tuffie distracts me enough so that I don’t notice my husbands socks on the floor or his dirty bathroom.  But eventually I have to clean the bathroom and pick up his socks, so the effects are temporary at best.

 I can agree though that my husband is lucky I found Tuffie.  I’m so busy petting him I have less time to care about the whereabouts of my husbands socks.  Maybe John does have has a small point.  Finding someone you enjoy having around can make the tougher parts of your life more bearable.  You may not like your situation any more than usual, or the people in your situation, but you can tolerate it all more easily.

 In the end, I’m glad I have Tuffie to scratch, to pet, and to call silly little pet names (pun intended).  I think Tuffie is too.  We all need stress relief, even a little dog.

 Theres a little bit of Tuffie in all of us ……….

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