It's safe to say that God is the best and most obvious example of unconditional love.  In the earthly realm things aren't as simple.  Parents can upset us, siblings can become detached.  Children can disappoint us, spouses can alienate. As the years pass BFFs often become distant memories.  But through the highs and lows in life one thing is guaranteed....regardless of your age, marital status, career path, financial stability, your dog will always love you.  A dog is the purest form of unconditional love in this life.

It took some smooth talking and a bit of emotional manipulation, but nearly eighteen years ago I was able to convince my mom to let me get a dog.  I made a call to the local shelter and was set up with a family who had just gotten a puppy but had to let her go because of an impending move.  After a phone conversation they brought over ten week old 'Hannah' --a cream colored fluff ball with big slipper like feet-- for a visit.  I remember sitting on the kitchen floor (some of the ugliest yellow linoleum in history) and calling her over to me;  with the clap of a hand she came bounding over and slid right into my lap.  Done deal.  She was mine.  The family left and Peaches became the first true love of my life.  "That dog is going to be huge" said mom.  "Just look at her paws."

Peaches was special (only pet owner to think that, right?).  As a puppy she could chew through a pair of shoes in record time.  She always seemed to have a smile on her face.  She was a happy, happy dog.  Fiercely protective, she defended me against intruders the likes of the U.P.S. man with mother bear like prowess.  Always at the ready for a car ride, one clink of the keys would start her spinning in circles towards the door in anticipation.  Literally.  And she was smart too.  How many dogs do you know who can spell?  Couldn't even spell the word walk without causing her heart to start racing.  When she was younger (and could still jump onto the bed) I'd leave the house, bed made nicely, and return to find her not just on the bed but IN it.  Seriously.  Under the covers, head on the pillow.  Special.

One of the best parts of being mama to a dog like Peaches for so many years was the deeply rooted relationship that was formed.  We understood the nuances of each others emotions in a way that was truly unique.  I could speak to her like a human and she knew exactly what I was saying.  Often times I didn't even need to speak.  Many a time when I was sick or feeling badly about something she's seek me out and lay with me.  Best cuddle buddy ever.  Years spent together taught her to leave the room if I turned on football (I tend to yell.  A lot) and taught me that she didn't like yellow Starburst.

And as is often the case, when we lose a trusted friend or family member, the things that we miss aren't the obvious.  It's the little things that make the void most apparent.  I miss the sound of her sneezing when she lays on her back.  I miss the way she falls asleep with her tongue sticking out.  I miss the smell of her in the bedroom.  I used to get annoyed by the copious amounts of dog hair that filled my house (my car, my purse...).  Now I dread the day when I'll be able to leave the house without a lint roller.