how many times did i complain about "that dumb dog"? how many times did i yell that he was being too loud, or that he was too stinky, or really annoying when he followed me around, or that his barking just had to stop?

and yet. . . i loved when he jumped up on my bed and cuddled next to me. i loved when he came trotting out from underneath a bed whenever someone called "bandit?" i loved when he laid down at my feet when i was watching a movie, or reading, or eating, or sewing, or doing homework. i loved when he would chase me around the yard, barking and wagging his tail and then plopping down in the grass like the happiest little dog alive. i loved when he jumped up on his hind legs and "clapped" when he wanted a treat. i loved how he was always there to keep me company. i loved when i picked him up and he rested his little head on my shoulder.

i loved our little dog. he's gone now, but i think he's in a better place. great-grandpa wilcox is taking care of him. we'll miss you bandit. we love you.
this isn't the best picture of him, but the only one i had.