This was the day we first met Winston and brought him home – he had just jumped into the car.

Such beautiful eyes, floppy velvet ears, kissy muzzle, and… hmmm, what else? That tongue! This is why we have their water bowl inside a crate – when he drinks, the whole area turns into a slip ‘n slide.

What do you think he was thinking when I took this picture? I think it was, “Yay – this is going to be so much fun!”

And boy, was he right!

I wonder if Sampson misses the B.W. Days. He used to get a lot more one-on-one attention from us.

Although, now that I look back at these pictures, I wonder if maybe he considers the arrival of Winston to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

I don’t know, it’s hard to say.

There’s a big “Who Gets To Sleep on the Dog Bed” game in our house, where puny little 2-year old Winston naturally assumes every bed is his. Always. And believe it or not, Sammy, the 6-year old, battle-scarred heavyweight allows puny little Winston to claim the dog bed. Always. Sam is so sweet.

And what gets me is that even when Sam is on the bed first, and he gets up to stretch or turn around – he always allows Winston to sneak on and take over. Sam then reluctantly, but seemingly happily, resigns himself to a spot on the hard floor – he is that sweet.

I’m sure that if I hadn’t just sprained my spleen while working out on the elliptical, I’d be really good at tying this to some profound life philosophy like, “Patience is a virtue,” or “Take the high road,” or “The meek shall inherit the earth.”

Or maybe it’s just, “When the dog bed gets too drooly, the puppy can have it.”