F . . . or was it Q?

Brodie likes to sleep tucked in beneath his blankets. In winter, he likes to wear his blankets around the house. 

F said he doesn't mind being blogged about as long as I refer to him with a different capital letter each time. He doesn't want anyone getting the idea his first name is Frank (it isn't) or even begins with F (it doesn't). Today is a Q day, I think.

Q has many lovely attributes and habits, but one that I find most endearing is that he's very committed to tucking the dogs in each night. He spends extra time with Brodie, who is not as young as he used to be, and who is dealing with several chronic illnesses, and who can't see any more. I think Q's extra time with Brodie has less to do with the fact that for Brodie, time may be running short, and more to do with the fact that Brodie is just a great dog. He deserves more love than we could possibly show him in the years he has left.

Q gets down on the dog bed beside Brodie and tucks him in beneath a blanket, after five or ten minutes of baby talk and patting and philosophical musings along the lines of, "who's a good boy?" These days,  Brodie can't sleep without getting tucked, and he'll come to the bed whining if we forget. 

Thank you, Q, for being the kind of person who intentionally adds a few minutes of joy to the life of my dog every single day, without fail. I love that about you.