whenever we are at the pet store and atlas is trying to eat all the pig ears – i do not love to buy them; while he finds them delectable, i find them smelly – i tease him by saying that he should make his own money so he can buy himself all the pig ears he wants.

(once, after saying this, one of the regulars tried to slip atlas $10. he told atlas that if he earned enough money, he wouldn’t need my approval and he could adopt his own kitty. atlas just licked the bill. either he wasn’t listening or he thinks everything is edible until proven otherwise.)

it turns out that he must listen to me, because i have been informed that he is going to do a thing. as far as i can tell, it is a year with atlas – stories and photos in your email every monday. he is working on the page now. i have a feeling that i am going to be involved somehow; i don’t know how he will implement his idea without me, being that he doesn’t have opposable thumbs. (i am already writing the page for him. due to the no opposable thumbs, of course. they really are useful.)

he really is a sweetheart, so i am excited to see what he wants to do.

(i am also a little sorry that i told him he could buy all the pig ears he wants. i hope he only wants one. or maybe two.)

you know that thing dogs do where they look like they’re running in their sleep?

in the past year or so, atlas runs more and more often, and his running is becoming more and more intense.

how do i know? he kicks harder.

atlas sleeps on the bed so when he starts running at night, there i am, in the way. usually, his feet are by my legs so my legs bear the brunt of it.

i read once that it’s not good to wake dogs up when they’re dreaming so i don’t anymore. (i used to. he’d let out that little whine and i would decide he must be having a bad dream so i’d wake him up and hug him.) (if i remember correctly, the argument against waking dogs up while dreaming was related to an increased likelihood of being bit, which makes sense.)

once upon a time, it was soft, light kicks. now, it’s not. you would not believe how hard he kicks while he’s running now. it hurts! and it seems to go on for ages.

i’m already on the end of the bed so there’s really nowhere for me to go. instead, i wait not-so-patiently for the kicking to stop, while secretly hoping that if he is chasing something in his dream, he catches it quickly.

i wonder if it’s an age thing. maybe he’s reliving his puppyhood. awwwwww. my cute-old-strong-legged-puppy-dog.

anyway, if you ever see me in shorts and my legs look bruised, you will know why.

i was thinking about my grandparents’ farm in michigan and i remembered this photo.

clearly atlas has a long history of picking his own fruit.

maybe we could go to an apple orchard this fall and he could pick apples while i sit on a picnic bench and drink cider and eat cinnamon sugar doughnuts and supervise.

these photos make me smile.

especially the first photo. (his head looks like it’s scrunched.) and the third photo. (dumbo!)

and definitely the last photo. doesn’t it look like atlas is about to eat the ant-people on the beach? (it’s dogzilla!)

i sat in the cool living room last night and shared a bag of popcorn with atlas. ten pieces for me; a piece for him. twelve pieces for me; two pieces for him. five pieces for me; a piece for him. twenty pieces for me; two pieces for him. (i think atlas would have preferred if the quantities were reversed.)

sharing popcorn leaves much time for thought.

“We like to pretend that our generous impulses come naturally. But the reality is we often become our kindest, most ethical selves only by seeing what it feels like to be a selfish jackass first. It’s the reason .. our most meaningful relationships are so often those that continued beyond the very juncture at which they came the closest to ending.”

– from Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed

the thing that i find myself thinking a lot lately – and it came to me again while nibbling popcorn – is that atlas has seen the very best of me. i have been the best version of myself with him. i have been sweet and loving and kind and patient and gentle to a degree that i wouldn’t have believed possible.

atlas has also seen the very worst of me. i have been the worst version of myself with him. i do not like to remember those moments, though as i grow older and wiser and kinder, it is easier to forgive myself for them. it seems very true that in every moment, we really are doing the best we can.

there have also been many many moments in between those two extremes.

for his part, i think it’s safe to say that atlas has been all versions of himself. (i would say that he’s been good and bad and everything in between, except i don’t really think dogs are good or bad; they just are.)

from the second i looked into atlas’ big eyes through the screen door, i wouldn’t have traded him for anything. after all these years of loving and learning together, that love feels like a teaspoon in the ocean of today’s love.

no matter what happens or doesn’t happen in the future, atlas is indeed one of the great loves of my life. the best and truest prayer i can offer on his behalf is “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Dario understands when I say that Buttermilk is the great love of my life. I know Buttermilk better than I have known any human, and he surely knows me better than anyone.”

– from All That is Bitter & Sweet by Ashley Judd

i don’t really have a point, except to say that when i look at atlas, it is easy to see that love is messy and beautiful.

if atlas is with me and i have to run inside a building that doesn’t allow dogs, i tie him up outside. when i come back, he tries really hard to get inside the building. i imagine that he wants to see where i went without him. (he is always trying to sneak inside my apartment’s leasing office before the door closes behind me.)

when we went hiking the other day, i tied atlas up outside the restrooms while i went inside. when i came back, no one was around, so i just unhooked the leash from his collar while i untied and untangled it instead of holding onto him with one hand, which is what i usually do.

when i looked up from the leash a second later, there was atlas, trotting happily past the men’s restroom and right into the women’s. he looked as pleased as punch.

oh, did i laugh. it’s a good thing no one was around. i imagine that would have been quite a shock.

atlas and i hiked to angel’s rest yesterday while my carpets were being cleaned. i like the hike – it’s not too far from portland, it’s in the gorge, a portion of it is shaded, and it’s less than 5 miles (the last two being important for a summer hike with a dog, i must say) – but i hadn’t done it in years.

i will confess that it was not as much fun as it could have been. this was purely my fault. i remembered the hike as being less rocky than it was, so i wore my five-fingered shoes, which have very little protection. i said “ow! ow! ow!!!” a lot.

can you tell what atlas thought about the hike? i will say that he did not like my ow-ing. (on the way down, i was idly wondering if that was how the trail felt on his feet, only i think his foot pads are much tougher, and possibly more cushioned, than my human feet.)

i was going through my photo archives and it was so fun to reminisce. these photos made me laugh. they were taken the day i brought atlas home to live with me and be my forever puppy.

atlas is the dog with the red collar. you can only see his feet and part of his belly in the first two pictures. his mom, noel, is the dog that is asleep on the left. his brother, rowdy, is the dog in front of him – the one that is staring at me. his uncle, sutter, is on the right.

i walked into the bedroom and saw this scene and it looked like his family was surrounding him so i wouldn’t take him.

of course, then atlas and rowdy started rough-housing.

clearly their mother was used to their antics; she continued sleeping next to them. she was the sweetest dog ever. she’d often be lying on the couch, asleep, one or both of her giant pups piled on top of her.

whenever i see atlas happily wriggling around on his back in the grass, i kind of want to try it myself. he makes it look so delightful.

if you’ve tried it, please do tell me whether i’m missing out. i am so curious.

this is atlas when he wants me to do something.

the trouble is that this is also atlas when he wants me to do something and i don’t know what it is.

if he could speak, i feel like he would say, “look at me, being such a patient dog. i just sit and wait and sit and wait. i don’t know why it’s taking you so long. i really could not have expressed myself any more clearly.”