"Hey, everyone. I thought it was about time I introduced myself. My name is Harlee and I’m a stunning twenty-eight-year-old brunette, and I’m finally getting my moment in the spotlight. My mom writes blogs all the time, and it's about time she dedicated one to her favorite child—me! So, let me tell you all about my fabulous life."
Wait a minute Harlee, you’re not twenty-eight, your four and a half….and you’re a chocolate lab, not a brunette. Grant it you do have the shiniest coat I have ever seen.
Let me tell you about “my” fourth child, Harlee. I’ve always been a little partial to Chocolate Labs—probably because they’re so loyal and loving, and Harlee is no exception. My Harlee Girl spent almost the first two years of her life in a kennel, but since joining our family, she has flourished into the best baby ever. She was a rescue when she came to me, as have been all my babies over the years. For me rescue pups make the best companions because they come with a heart full of gratitude and a boundless supply of love. They've been through tough times and still manage to show endless loyalty and joy, proving every day that second chances are worth it.
Every day starts basically the same way: with Harlee flipping my chin with her nose at an ungodly hour. She’s a canine alarm clock with no snooze button. And forget about sleeping in, because Harlee is punctual, especially when it comes to breakfast. “Hey, Mom, it’s breakfast time! I’m starving here!” she seems to say with her insistent nudges.
Once breakfast is served and devoured (with Harlee’s signature water-dribble-dribble routine—seriously, more water ends up on the floor than in her mouth), it’s time for her daily outing. Mr. Mike, our family friend dog whisperer, picks her up to take her to the dog park with her best friends, Lucy and Petunia. You should see the excitement when he arrives. It’s like watching a kid on Christmas morning. She waits for her leash then dashes to sit at the van door…. waiting to jump into her assigned seat. I hear she’s quite the popular girl at the park and manages to follow all the rules. Most probably because she knows there’s a treat at the end of the outing, but I like to humor myself by thinking it’s because she’s so well behaved.
Harlee’s daily social calendar doesn’t end there. Oh no! Her boyfriend, Shadow, a nine-year-old Lab-Pit mix (the older man), visits every day with my daughter, Megan. Those two are inseparable. They play, they wrestle, they nap together, then they nap some more, then they bark at neighbors walking the lake. You know, fun stuff—sometimes I think Shadow comes over more for Harlee than Megan comes over to see me. Every few nights Shadow gets to have a sleep over at Grammy's house (because Grammy is his favorite) and those are always fun times.
The house is a minefield of dog toys, courtesy of Harlee and Shadow’s playtime. Her toy box is constantly empty and it’s now a game to see how many times I can put all nine toys back in the box and how fast she can take EVERY one of them back out. For some reason we are not happy unless all the toys are set free….and most of them are the hard sharp kind. Stepping on one of those sharp toys in the dark? It’s like stepping on a Lego, but with more noise and less bloodshed. The noise is coming from me in case you wondered. I found out early on I had to remove every squeaky part out of the soft ones as soon as I bought them or she’d just tear them apart to get at it. She’s known to devour a soft toy in under five minutes. Harlee’s got toys for every occasion, and she insists on sharing them with anyone who walks through the door. “Welcome to my home, human! Here’s a slobbery toy as a token of my appreciation.”
Then there's her role as the inspector. A role taken very seriously. Anything new that comes into the house “must” pass Harlee's rigorous inspection. Groceries, laundry, children, nothing escapes her scrutinizing sniffs. “Ah, new socks. Interesting choice, human. Let me just make sure these are up to snuff.” The dishwasher inspection happens to be my favorite - she inspects every dish as it goes in and if it’s not been pre-rinsed to her liking, well she’ll just do it herself. As if she’s saying, Fine!
Harlee is also my constant shadow. She follows me up and down the stairs, ensuring I don’t get lost or into any trouble. “Where are we going now? Upstairs? Downstairs? I’ll be right behind you.” It’s like having a furry personal assistant, minus the coffee runs.
With the grandkids she’s the BEST. Truth be told, she melts my heart as she tends to them, following them around, always making sure they’re safe…. or maybe it’s to catch any falling food. Either way it’s sweet.
I bet you can guess where she sleeps too. Just like clockwork, each evening she sits at the foot of the bed and waits impatiently as I spread out her sheet, then looks at me and waits until I nod my head, then hops up, making herself comfortable, if to say “finally!”. As night falls, Harlee’s energy doesn’t wane, but her tolerance for noise does. She gives me that look every night as I’m winding down watching TV— “Seriously? It’s bedtime. Could you keep it down?”— Her face is so expressive, it’s like living with a furry, non-verbal comedian. When it’s sleepover night for Shadow, let’s say I lose the war on square footage. On a side note: I have to tell you, there is nothing funnier than waking up to find Shadow with his big head on the pillow next to me, just like the human he thinks he is.
And no matter what kind of day we're having, all I have to say is, "Who's a good girl?" and her tail starts to thump loudly as she smiles at me with her eyes. I do it over and over again because it makes me smile so much. I love my Girl.
Despite the chaos of toys, the early morning wake-up calls, and the perpetual inspections, Harlee’s companionship is irreplaceable. She’s more than just a pet; she’s a member of this family, a loyal friend, a confidante, and sometimes, a strict bedtime enforcer. Life with Harlee is full of laughter, love, and a bit of slobber—but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Every girl needs a constant in her life and for me it’s Harlee. And tomorrow we’ll get up and do it all over again. Me and my Harlee Girl.
