At a very sad time in my life I adopted a dog from a local shelter. I was working, but Lee was home most of the time. In a matter of days, RJ was Lee's dog. This was NOT Lee's idea. It was all RJ.
If Lee leaves the room, RJ follows. If Lee takes a shower and leaves the bathroom door open the dog waits on the bath mat. If Lee goes outside the dog follows. He follows the tractor when scraping snow or bush hogging in the hottest weather.
Sometimes Lee looks at me and jokingly whines, "He's following me."
We don't take him in the truck often, because he thinks he should sit in the passenger seat and so do I. I win that argument. He got car sick in the back seat once, so he mostly gets to stay home.
If we both leave, he sits by one of the windows that almost allows him to see down the driveway. We got a camera and monitor so WE can now see approaching cars, but RJ hasn't figured out how to look at that.
So he presses his face against the window in the office.
Or the one in the bonus room. And waits.
I am obviously here for companionship. I am taking the pictures, after all. But I, who rescued him from the shelter, am obviously not good enough. It is Lee he waits for.
How do we know this? Because he leaves dog nose spots on the windows.
It's kind of sweet. And kind of sad. Most mostly disgusting. Time for the Windex.