Four years ago it dawned on me that there were only two things in my life that brought me Pure joy without any accompanying angst: my assistant Anne Cowley and my dog Rupert. Anne has since moved onto bigger and better projects besides my sorry self. But Rupert remains, as always, loving, loyal, and by my side.
He’s not particularly loving or sweet. He’s prickly at best and not a huge fan of most humans. He’s not aggressive he’s just not that interested in making new friends. He’s basically the doggie equivalent of those two guys on the Muppet show who heckle everyone from the side balcony. No one every really loves Rupert when they meet him.
He’s not a good looking dog by any standards. I found him in the parking lot of a construction site and it shows. He’s not nearly as good looking or playful as either the new dog we just got who replaced the equally good looking and well mannered dog we just lost. When folks ask what breed he is I can’t even begin to bluff my way through guessing which breeds might possibly be found in his DNA. He’s just a plain old mutt – no way to sugar coat it!
But none of that matters to me. Because Rupert pretty much lives for me. Also I’m fairly certain he has a direct connection to my brain and can commiserate with me as much as any human. When the children are driving me to drink, he looks deeply into my eyes and I know he’s silently telling me that hiding in my closet with him is perfectly reasonable.
He follows me to bed and sleeps next to me on the floor every single night like it’s what he has been waiting for all day long. Who am I kidding? It IS what he waits for all day long. I am always his first choice. What more could a woman want?
When I get up in the morning he will sit patiently with his whole body wiggling until I give him a deep ear rub. Then he makes a noise like something you’d expect to hear from an eighty year old man – which I find oddly satisfying. It’s like his way of saying: “Great ear rub, my dear!” In his eyes I can do no wrong.
And that is the best part of our relationship. I never disappoint Rupert. As a working mom I don’t have enough fingers and toes to keep track of all the people I disappoint on a given day. I feel as if I constantly short change my children, my husband, my clients, my friends, and my family. But my dog Rupert is always completely satisfied by even my smallest gesture. Truly every working mother needs a Rupert.
If you have a Rupert, I’d love to hear about him!