Singing Ridiculous Songs

There's something about the way he sits by the door, waiting with expectant eyes. He sees me, runs in tiny circles, then will fetch a shoe. Why a shoe? I have no idea, but he grabs a shoe and brings it to me as an offering of thanks. Our normal routine will unfold (I'll grab the shoe from his mouth, rub his bely, and sing the I Missed Polo song) and end with roughly 27 kisses to his head and neck.

Yes, I'm weird.

We've been traveling a bit–and still have a bit more to do–but it's nice to come home to something that feels like pure, unadulterated love. Polo embodies comfort, routine, and ease for us…and a constant reminder to enjoy the simple pleasures of being home. Together. And singing ridiculous songs.