my dog ate my craft basket…

i have this really great little dog. the story of how we found each other goes a little like this:

growing up, i never really had a dog. yes, we did have the occasional pet, but my own dog, no can do… allergies. ugh. i’m allergic to everything it seems like… horses, dogs, cats, ferrets, rabbits. so stupid! it sucks because i really like animals a lot. anyways, i never knew the joy of being a mommy. so, one day, i am dropping off a donation at the humane society and while i’m sitting waiting for someone, this ball of fur jumps in my lap. he looked at me and i was a goner.

i asked a little more history about the little (what i thought was a) puppy and found out that no, he is indeed full sized at 10 pounds and won’t grow anymore, he’s a purebred miniature poodle, he’s epileptic, and he’s 8 years old. cue the choirs of angels, i found a dog i wasn’t allergic to. oh, and his name was “Little Buddy.”

ok, who names their dog “little buddy?” for reals? i left him there and went home to think and to plan. i had never imagined an animal would walk into my life and just… belong. two days later, i picked up the little furball and they told me his akc registry had read “bentley” prior to being destroyed (side bar: animal shelters destroy any registries on animals and fix them as a standard practice… never knew that). i brought my baby home.

as we started getting used to each other, i learned that animals respond to one or two-syllable names better, thus… ben. that’s my kid. it confuses people a lot since i gave him a human name (more on his full name and it’s origins later) and i talk about him like he’s a person rather than a dog. sometimes people think he’s my kid, sometimes my boyfriend… it’s pretty funny.

a good friend of mine actually blessed ben with his full name. shortly after bringing ben home, i realized the kid was like magic. i have a trashcan with a lid on it. it’s a good sturdy trashcan many times the size of my dog. my roommate at the time had thrown away a very tasty leftover sub. while i was at work, my dog managed to not only get the leftovers out of the trashcan, he did so without tearing the trashcan up or removing the lid. there was subway wrapper EVERYWHERE. as i’m telling the story, trevor says “ah… the force is strong with this one i see” and recommends his middle name to be…


my dogs name became ben kenobi. as in the star wars character. since then he has been proving very adept at the force. honestly, if he’d been in the movies, they could have stopped after the first episode. well, if they hadn’t made the last 3 first. eh.

my dog is still getting into all kinds of shenanigans. his most recent feat has been to get in the closet and drag out all my craft stuff (i’m a knitter. lots of yarn) all. over. my. livingroom. i’ve had him for 3 years now and he still is a pain in the butt. but he’s my pain in the butt. and i love him.

my sweet boy. sleeping. he’s almost as good at sleeping as he is eating and making messes.

 from google. the kiddo’s namesake.


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