His two cronies laughed as they kicked at the dirt.

I stared down at my shoes so they wouldn’t see the tears welling up in my eyes.

 

 

“He’s ugly. His eyes are too far apart, and they look like goggles,” I huffed as my husband, FD, and I looked through pictures of the just-born black lab puppies the breeder sent us through email.

Each pup had a different color thread of yarn as a collar to tell them apart. “Red collar is cute. How about him?” asked my husband, pointing at the computer screen.

“Sure. Just definitely not blue collar.”

 

Bleu dog butt-tucks wildly through the house for no human reason. He sleeps in the bathtub most of the day. On walks, he stalls—all four paws on lockdown pause—if someone approaches from behind us. He snacks on rabbit poop before he takes a long afternoon pee, his black coat reflecting the sun’s spectrum. When he greets guests, he acts like the husky, big-boy punk rocker you want to avoid in a mosh pit. (And it doesn’t help that Bleu has a thing for French kissing, especially guests who had a tasty meal before coming over or who just brushed their teeth. Keep in mind, he is food motivated.) No matter where he is in the house, if he hears the fridge door unseal and a Ziploc bag open, he magically appears, drooling. During meals he rests his enormous, heavy head on my left knee while he looks up at me; the whites of his eyes so clear, I can see his hunger, his sadness, and, most importantly, his mind games. Every night he comes to my side of the bed and nuzzles his nose against my cheek until I lift up the covers; then he hops in and burrows down, finding that last sigh before sleep at our feet.

 

It’s hard to imagine life before Bleu, or without Bleu.

 

Bleu and I picked each other. While FD inspected each of the other puppies, waddling around in their ply-board pen, Bleu trotted right over to me and licked my hand. I scooped him up, cradling him like a baby, and that was it. He was sweet, cute, and mine. My very first dog ever.

 

On the car ride home from signing the papers, I drove while Bleu slept on FD’s lap. Before the first rest area, FD asked, “You want me to drive so you can hold him?” I protested no as I guided the car onto the off-ramp.

 

Holding my little boy Bleu, my little lab that was the size of my forearm, wrapped in the softness of an old sweatshirt, I was overcome by the fragility of life in my lap. The little inhale and exhale of his lungs barely detectable, if not for the slight movement of my palm resting slightly on this sweetly sleeping body.

 

I wept.

 

And I didn’t stop weeping, it seemed, through his bouts of diarrhea, vomiting, and dehydration—what, finally, one intelligent vet identified as food allergies. (A gradual switch to California Naturals dog food with only one protein—lamb—and a non-grain carbohydrate—rice—practically cured Bleu’s aliments overnight.)

 

For all of the doctor visits, worrying, and sleepless nights, I might as well have had a baby.

 

But I always really wanted a dog.

 

 

Of course, Bleu and I bond over food. He loves cooled-down elbow pasta, boiled white rice, and scrambled eggs; that’s all he could keep down as a puppy. Carrots, green beans and cheese still make him salivate just like they did when he was learning how to sit, shake, and stay. He lies at my feet when I cook because he knows any scraps that fall are for his tasting. We practically share a palate, were it not for his predilection for maple seedlings, animal remains, and tree bark.

 

 

 The more I’m around people, the more I like dogs. Bleu knows the depth of my being better than any person, maybe even better than myself. He doesn’t judge me when I’ve had one glass of wine too many. He cracks me up with a funny stretch when I have no idea that a laugh is exactly what I need. He’s so excited the millisecond I walk through the door after work that he whines with giddiness. During my time of the month, he curls against me to create the most awesome heating pad ever. Even better, he teaches me how to forgive, like I did the day after he shredded open our premium goose-down duvet; it’s funny now to think how the white feathers stuck to the corners of his mouth, underneath his collar, and in his tail, the others flurried down on our bedside tables, carpet, and headboard like a gentle evening snow. What sticks with me most, though, is even after I hollered at Bleu and punished him with a stern spanking, not even an hour later, he nudged my hand with his cold, wet snout and sulked his shoulders into what only could be a sorry. I accepted his apology and extended a peace offering of my own: a snack-sized carrot. Without learning from Bleu how to forgive and move on, I just might still harbor resentment for Brian Ropes; it turns out to be a blessing that my dog teaches me how to be more dog-like.

 

For pupsters with food allergies, homemade treats are the easiest way to ensure there are no fillers or by-products included. Also, homemade treats are healthier for pets, as long as they enjoyed in limited quantities. I only give Bleu one cookie every few days; that way he doesn’t gain weight from them, and he views them as a very special treat after a hard trick or training session.

 

Rather than dirtying a countertop with additional flour for rolling the dough, I learned this nifty trick from Gourmet magazine back-in-the-day. Cut two same-size pieces of parchment paper, place the dough ball between both, then roll out the dough over the top sheet. Be sure to flip sides to keep the dough even.  This trick works really well for “human cookies” too! Also, you can choose to use non-organic products as well; however, my philosophy is that good food ensures good health for our pets. For Bleu, because of his allergies, and because our house is gluten-free, I find it best/easiest to use organic and gluten-free ingredients. Every dog, though, like every human, is different, so do what’s best for you and your pet.

 

 

Mash the banana in a small bowl then mix with the shredded carrots. Add the applesauce and water to the banana and carrot mixture. In a separate medium bowl, whish together the flour and oats. Make a well in the center of the flour and oats, and pour in the banana mixture. Stir thoroughly until combined, and then knead it until a dough has formed. Put the dough between two pieces of parchment and roll it until it’s ½ inch thick. You can try to use cookie cutters, but it’s easier to form rounds of the dough that are anywhere from 1-3 inches in size. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, place cookies on the prepared sheet, and bake in a 350 degree pre-heated oven for 25 minutes, turning the cookies halfway through. Cool completely on a wire rack. Treats will keep in the fridge for 3 weeks or in the freezer for up to 6 months.