Hank is my dog. I got him at a shelter and after three and a half years, the removal of 2/3 of one of his lungs, daily medicine for his acid reflux and an inexplicable dislike of baseball hats, I’ve given up trying to figure him out and just love him for who he is. My husband is trying to learn to love him too (it’s hard to love a whiny, puking-prone, “run to mamma when the big guy is mean” kinda dog) and he’s doing a really, really good job.
For instance, he knows Hank loves yogurt. Hank will patiently sit at your feet for the chance to lick the yogurt cup when you are finished. This was no ordinary day, however. (Forgive the evil green eyes, he actually has big, sweet, dark-brown eyes.)
The Hubs gave Hank yogurt. The giant Activia container that Hank can fit his head in, to be exact.
Also, you should know, this is now HANK’S yogurt container. He will pick it up and run from room to room (or under the bed) until he licks every last bit out of that sucker. He’s a strange dog, but he’s MY dog and I love him.