I see people do this on Facebook fairly often and since I have a dog that is really gross, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Let me tell you, this was not an easy picture to get. Beauregard Duke is on the left and is about 10 months old. He did not want to sit still with a sign around his neck. Axl is on the right and is twelve years old. He doesn't care what is around his neck, but wishes that he didn't have to sit up for a picture. His life mostly consists of lying down and getting his belly rubbed. So, yeah, Bo likes to drink Axl's pee and eat his feces, and Axl could care less. Its a relatively disgusting relationship they have.
These two are essentially my second and fourth dogs of my grown up life. My first dog was a black lab named Eddie who was given to me when I was 20 years old. I had him for about a year before I left on a long baseball road trip and he ran away from his caretakers. He was a smart dog, but also stupid as could be at the same time. His big thing was that he absolutely loved to hump pillows. He had one in particular that was his favorite, and if you couldn't get him to come in from outdoors, or he had run away, all you had to do was whistle and let him get a look at that pillow. He was guaranteed to come running. Anyway, if let outside that dog would run from anyone but me, and when I was in Los Angeles he made a break for it. It was a bummer, but if he wouldn't have left I probably never would have gotten Axl.
Axl is my second dog. I'll come back to him.
My third dog was an Australian Shepherd named Maddie that we rescued from the pound. She ate doors and trim and was a master escape artist. She could get out of any kennel, chew through chains, pull her head through any collar, and jump over six foot high fences. It was just a matter of time before that dog got away. She wasn't meant for the house dog life and I hope she found a home out in the country with some sheep or goats to herd because she was really a sweet pooch.
Beauregard Duke of the House of Wheat is our latest edition to the family. He is a full blooded Brittany Spaniel and loves to find/chase birds, and butterflies. He's come a long way in his first year with us here, but is still struggling with the whole chewing thing. He is probably the biggest baby of any dog I've ever met. You can't even raise your voice at him without him yelping like you're killing him. When he was only a few months old he jumped up and nipped my five year old on the chin and received a smack to his behind. You would have thought I had chopped his back legs off. We were then very proactive in teaching him to play with his mouth closed, and now he's great with the kids.
Now I'll talk about Sir Wheat's Axl Grease. He is easily the best of the bunch and its hard to believe what a different world this place was for him and me when we first met. I had always wanted a purebred Golden Retriever, so, when I was 23 years old I got one, and yes I named him after Axl Rose. They both have red hair. I remember the day I picked him out well. He was the only male of the litter, which I didn't actually know at the time, but when I stepped in with the puppies they all swarmed me except for Axl. He just sat in the corner, yawned, and decided to take a nap. The other puppies would jump on him and nip at him, but he was just relaxing and paid the world little mind, until I came over and scratched his belly. His leg started twitching and his eyes rolled back in his head and I could have sworn he smiled at me. I made him mine right then and there. Anyway, I lived at 708 North Underhill across from St. Mark's school in Peoria and Axl was just a little ball of fuzz. I only have one picture of him when he was a puppy, but rest assured, he was insanely cute. We were a boy and his dog. He'd ride in the front of my truck and when I'd leave the house for work he'd lay by the door and wait for me to get back. He was never a chewer, or a biter, or a garbage eater, or a barker, or anything. He didn't ever have any bad habits and hasn't spent a second in a kennel. A couple of times he ate things off the counter that he wasn't supposed to, but he never really got stuck in a rut. He always seemed to know when he did something wrong and felt REALLY badly about it. Before there was a wife, and before there were kids, there was Axl and every night before I went to bed I'd hold his head in my hands and talk to him. I still do it now, but not as often as I should. He's an old guy and I honestly don't like to disturb him if he's resting, which is pretty much all of the time. He's had kids pull on his tail, tug on his ears, poke him in the eyes, lay on top of him, and try to ride him, but not once did he voice any displeasure: no growling, no barking, no nipping, no nothing. At twelve years of age he's already outlived his life expectancy by a couple of years, and I'm sure the puppy is pretty jealous of him. He gets McDonald's Double Cheeseburgers, cookies, ice cream, and bites of steak. The puppy just gets dog food and beggin strips. Old Axl has a lame back hip, and a bad front shoulder, can't always hear you when you call his name and sometimes moans and groans in his sleep, but if you lay down next to him and rub his belly, his leg will still get going and his eyes will still roll back in his head. He'll look at you with his big brown eyes every time, smile, and say "I love you Tim. Do you have any steak?" Yeah. He talks too. My dog is the best. Deal with it.