Happy Burphday!

Today is Murphy's 3rd birthday. He doesn't really seem all that fazed by the whole experience - in fact, he is pretty much just snoozing on my shoulder, getting fur all over the back of the couch. He is such a spoiled little mutt. But for the Murph I shall take a few minutes away from studying Contracts (don't EVEN get me started on the Statute of Frauds, why does everyone else seem to understand this? UGH.) and tell the blogosphere about my adoration for my pup.

Murphy came to live with me one fine week in September of 2005 (my very first semester of law school). I was supposed to be "taking care of him" for one week until he was sold at a fundraiser (puppies make tons of money at those things). I was pretty excited, since lab puppies are freaking adorable. I didn't know what color or gender he would be, so I decided to call the new pup "Murphy" because it popped into my head and seemed like it was a good "all-purpose" name (I should have known then there was no way I was giving him up). The poor thing was completely terrified and discombobulated - he missed his 10 brothers and sisters and immediately latched on to me, never once letting me out of his sight. I had so much fun taking him out for his 2 am walks, getting him a crate, watching him tear every blanket into shreds, etc. all while trying to figure out the ins and outs of CivPro. At the prompting of Daisy, who promised ever so earnestly that she would help with the puppy-raising, I promptly gave the folks running the fundraiser some cash to keep Murphy off the auction block.

The first year was rough, I won't lie. Murphy was the most stubborn little turd about certain things (namely, house breaking - dear GOD he didn't understand that he was supposed to pee outside until he was almost 8 months old!). He shredded any towel, blanket, or pad you put in his crate, as if he wanted to lie on the hard bottom rather than have a nice bed. He ate my very favorite pair of winter boots, and would demolish any water bottles he could get his teeth into. He simply enjoyed ripping things to shreds, no matter how much exercise he had. He barked incessantly while in his cage or in the car, and delighted in yapping until I filled his water bowl, then flipping it over. In short, I thought I had made a huge mistake.

But then there were the adorable things. The way he fell asleep on my tummy every day. His cute face poking around the shower curtain (and the occasional giant puppy actually joining you IN the shower, just to make sure you were okay). The snuffles (basically poking you in the face repeatedly with his nose, he wasn't much of a kisser). His utter and complete fear of all felines and squirrels and Christmas decorations. And I just knew I couldn't give up on him, no matter what.

So here we are, 3 years later. I am done with law school (and soon the bar, eek). Murphy has grown into an outstanding, handsome, and wickedly smart dog. He reads emotions in an uncanny way, and understands so many words that sometimes I think he could talk if he tried. He knows to bring me his leash AND my gloves when he wants a winter walk and knows that I get one or two "snoozes" every morning so he has to be patient and snuggle for a few extra minutes. He thinks he is a lap dog, and gets fur on every surface possible. Murphy was one of the best things to come into my life, and has made me more compassionate and patient and happy to be covered in slobber and unable to wear white. So here's to the Murph, who certainly can't read this but is getting extra treats today - happy birthday, pup!!!