Three Years of Duke!

 Duke. Dukers. Dukey. Duckers. Dukertonian. Sir Duke. Dukey Baby. 

Ah, our little wild boy Duke is celebrating his third adoptaversary today.  Three years ago today, he came careening into our lives, and we have never been quite the same since. He's chewed more pillows, socks, couches, blankets, shoes, towels, and. . .basically anything he could get his teeth on.  He's barked enough to scare away a thousand bad guys. He's had the zoomies, racing through the house and on the furniture, mowing down anyone in his way. He's vomited (on the carpet, always on the carpet) more times than we count.  He's jumped up on us, acted a fool on car rides, attempted to rip our arms out of their sockets on walks, and made every effort to eat all of our Christmas ornaments off the tree.  And the pièce de résistance was the oh-so-memorable time he literally ate the pant leg of our friend while he was over for dinner.  

Yes, Duke.  Here we are, three years later, somehow still standing.  Duke is 3.5 years old now, and maybe, just maybe, dare I say it -- growing up a little?  I can't remember the last time he ate a pillow or furniture or  swiped the dishtowel, though he is still game for a sock in the laundry basket if he's feeling frisky (which is often).  These days he mostly listens when we tell him no, and after some initial excitement over our return home or after playtime, he likes to settle onto the couch and snooze, or keep a quiet eye on us through heavy-lidded eyes.  His favorite person is my husband, and he likes to snuggle up next to him while he is doing his prayers throughout the day (my husband is doing the praying, not Duke:).  He somehow instinctively knows when my husband is going to go on a run, and whimpers pathetically while he waits to have his leash put on.  He makes the kids happy, and he cheers all of us up if we're down.  

Three years ago today I had no idea what was ahead of us in the coming months (though I might have had some inklings).  But three years later, it appears Duke is a beloved member of our family, despite all my tears in the first few weeks that suggested otherwise.  Everyone who encouraged me in those early days was right:  he would indeed (mostly) chill out and become a good boy.  

So lift your glass (or doggie treat) to Dukey Baby: May we enjoy many more years of snuggles and doggy love with Duke.