blessed beyond measure

Last summer, our extended family grew in one of the best ways possible. My parents adopted a puppy, who they named Kobe. He was teeny tiny, oh so sweet, and a little slow to warm up. Of course that could have something to do with the loud, overwhelming attention he received from my boys. Bless his little heart. He grew and grew and grew, both in stature and in enthusiasm. Mom trained him from the beginning to do tricks like rolling over, standing on his hind legs, and high five. But while he became smarter, he also developed a mischevious side. He would eat worms and bugs and deer poop, his own bed, Mom's curtains, Dad's money, and the guts of so-called super-tough toys that he could ravage within only a few minutes. Poor thing can only have nylon toys anymore. He earned himself the nickname Demon Dog. But he is so, so sweet. He is floppy and clumsy, strong and fast. The leash makes him think he is a sled dog. He chases ice cubes around the floor, and his zoomies guarantee ...