August 18, 2015 | Posted in Andy The Everydog
My name is Andy. I’m a young adult American Cocker Spaniel. And I guess that makes me an all-American and all everything kind of dog. I like to think of myself as an “Everydog”, so when I tell my stories, I bet I’m telling your stories, too. I guess you can think of me as a repository for everything that happens in our relationships with our humans. The more universal an experience is, the more personal it is to the individual. The fun part is being part of that equation. We share a lot and also have a lot to discover about each other.
My humans are John and Betsy. They weren’t there when I was born, but they’re the only parents I’ve known. I think I was born in a shelter. I don’t remember the experience . . . or my mom. I do remember hearing things like, “what a good boy you are”; “he’s such a pretty color”; and “Andy, it’s time for your supper!”I don’t know if I had any brothers or sisters. No one ever said. And if they’re too far away to visit, I guess it’s okay if I don’t know one way or the other, for sure.
I live in Rhode Island, a very small state in New England. I went to the neighborhood obedience school and to a dog club for body and strength training. I think my career choice — being alert to everyone and everything around me — has served me well. I may get a little excited when I see something I haven’t ever seen, for the first time, or meet friends of friends or other dogs. I’m naturally happy and accepting.
I’ll try anything that sounds like fun. I like meeting new friends and I love to hang out with humans, especially my humans. They’re young and cute and Betsy’s blond hair makes me think of sunny days, even if it’s raining outside.
I’m a good listener. I think we all share things as we grow, on some important levels; things like walking for the first time, playing in snow for the first time, knowing that you’ve got the most awesome humans in the entire world to call your own; the first time you had cheese; and your first steak bone.
How about the time you met your first friend in the neighborhood. My first friend was Tony, a bull dog, who lived down the block. We’d see each other when our humans checked their mail boxes or picked the daily newspaper up from the grass.
I know I actually smiled the first time Tony trotted out there with his human, Mr. DiBaso. He was a friendly dog’s dog . . . and, I guess, I am too! We just like being with dog friends and, of course, with our loving humans. It’s really pretty nice that we can play and do dog stuff and have a great time, and tag along on human adventures, too; like taking long rides in the summer and feeling the wind blow my fur around; swimming; helping Betsy hang laundry in the back yard and slurping the cheeks of little kids when they come to visit us.
Just stroll along with me. It isn’t hard to find simple things that make you smile. It’s all in how you look at it.
I’m so happy to meet you!