The family member they don't include in my tax forms

Relationships seem to be getting more difficult and complicated as I get older. Many of them are wonderful and strong, but it seems that there is more to fight about and more complex issues to handle than who gets to be black in a game of checkers. But there is one stable relationship in my life that doesn't get complicated. My dog and I only fight when I'm not letting her play with the other dogs on the street.

It is true that K.C. cannot hold a conventional conversation with me but that doesn’t mean that we can’t understand each other. Clearly, I don’t understand why she feels the urge to eat frogs, rabbits, and the many small dogs in our neighborhood and I’m quite sure she doesn’t understand what my attachment is to the shiny thing often beeping and being held up to my head, but we manage the most important thing, love.

K.C. is the daughter of a dog my family had to give away when we moved. In exchange for our pedigree Chow, Hope, the breeder offered us our pick of her litter, when we were settled and ready for a pet again. When we moved into our new house, we picked K.C. out from amongst the other fluffy, bumbling puppies, all of which were “blue” (gray) like their mother.

K.C. is getting pretty old now, almost ten. Two and a half years ago, my parents moved again. I moved into both my college dorm room and my “home” room in the same week. K.C. no longer had the same yard and fence and she too had to adjust to a different life. When I was home I would take her for extra long walks or sneak her extra treats and she would sit or lay with me around the house. This was our way of helping each other cope with our new home.

I have always maintained that I am her favorite of my three family members and myself. They all argued with me until the move.

K.C. struggles with stairs after injuring the cartilage in one leg and weakening the other because of compensation. She is also a generally “outside” dog and gets fidgety after long periods indoors. Most of the time she doesn’t really go upstairs and she only stays in for a couple of hours in the evening. If I am home she’ll often stay in through the evening and then come upstairs with me at night to sleep in my room.

She is fearful of strangers but if I am there, meeting new people is some how less scary and she is calmer. If I go outside with her she will make sure to sit on my foot and lean on my leg while I pet her before she goes back to rolling around in the grass and examining the freshly laid pine straw.

Sometimes I think I’m crazy, but I honestly believe that she knows when I’m leaving to go back to college. Perhaps I only imagine it, but I believe I see her eyes get a little sadder and her tail wag a little slower. I love my family dearly, but in general it is my dog I miss the most. I cannot talk to her on the phone or leave her a comment on her Myspace. I also know that her life probably will not go on a for lot longer. So, I hug and pet her as often as I can, I take her for long walks around the neighborhood and do my best to keep her from eating small animals.