My dog is a better person than I am.

I know that everyone says their dog is the absolute, final-final, hands down best dog there is, and I have to say that I fully agree.

All dogs are infinitely awesome.

And wise.

And hilarious.

And loving.

And accepting.

And that’s why dogs are awesome.

Dogs are the best parts of all of us and they are so much better than all of us.

I can’t think of once that a dog has ever bailed on me, or criticized me (even when I deserved it), or been anything less than loyal. I don’t think there are many people that can fit that same description.

The only real flaw dogs have is that sometimes they pee on the floor, and I don’t feel that property damage of such a minor degree is a capital offense.

I love my dogs.

When I moved to Alaska, I knew I was going to be alone a lot of the time. Starting completely fresh in the great, white north was my dream, but I didn’t realize how lonely it would be at times. Of course there were things to keep busy with, but at the end of the day it was hard to just sit completely alone day after day.

I mean yeah, I had friends I could hang out with, but it’s a difficult thing to go from being surrounded by people I’ve known my entire life to such green friendships. I needed something to fill the void that was starting to consume me.

So when W left for Prudhoe Bay for work on a Sunday morning in July, I had to do something to stay busy. I drove to Fairbanks, wandered through some stores, and checked the classifieds in the newspaper. Immediately, I saw the ad: AKC Yellow Lab Puppies, ready to go July 3, Salcha.

So I called.

I can just go look right? It’ll give me something to do, keep my mind off of everything. Can’t hurt anything to look.

I drove to Salcha and was greeted by three wiggly, yellow, fluffy, perfect creatures. Two boys, and one girl that made me instantly think it had been a bad idea to come. I knew I would be going home, to my apartment that had a strict no pet policy, with a puppy.
Can I run to the ATM and be right back? Will you hold him? 
With an affirmative response from the man selling the puppies, I tore off to North Pole, hit three different ATMs and sped back.
I picked a male with a tiny pink spot on his nose that stared at me with huge muddy green eyes. It was all over; there was no way I was ever going anywhere without this dog.
Despite the horrors of potty training, Tucker has always been a fantastic dog. He makes me laugh, he sits with me when I cry, and he has always been a steadfast protector.
He is crazy, completely destroys my living room, barks at W when he’s being sassy, and hogs the bed. Tucker is my best friend. My hairy, perfect, loyal to the end, thinks the sun shines out of my ass, best friend.

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