Frankie, The Awesome.

I have this dog named Frankie.

We named him Frankie because he found us at Mr. Frankie's Pizzeria. (The other option was Gadubadu, which was the name I gave my Monopoly piece in the future board on Wii. Frankie just made more sense.)

Anyway. He came home with us all flea covered and so full of ticks that when he rolled over for a belly rub, little round ticks would roll off and we'd smash em into gross puddles of stray dog blood mush. After a bath and another bath... and another bath... and several comb overs with tweezers and a lighter, he was looking (and smelling) like a new dog.

Since the Italians have this thing about whoever has the dog owns the dog and the 91 year old lady who REALLY owned the dog didn't want him back, we were now the proud new family of a dog that didn't speak a lick of English.

We had several initial mini-issues with Frankie... I mean, it's tough to get him to sit or stay or, well, anything when he has no idea what you're trying to say to him. And when the previous owner says the dog is a flight risk and you can't keep him in the gate? Tough. But as it turns out, Frankie was and is quite well trained and always comes home. And he might take indecent liberties with the little female doggies he meets, he's always a gentleman with the kids. I have never seen a dog who takes as much beating, pounding, pulling, choking, wrestling and general toddler love as Frankie. And he just adores it. I don't know if maybe he just never got attention at his last home or what, but he is certainly making up for it here.

So as I watch Sophie and Kaden (3) push and pull and hug and tug and generally turn good ol' Frankie into a Stretch Armstrong just before the corn syrup erupts ('80s reference, y'all)... I am certain that he was looking for us. He needed us as much as we needed him. And I'm fairly certain he's part cyborg.

Here's to you, Frankie. Kudos for never snapping, growling, nipping or biting. And I'll keep your spot under the kitchen table sacred. I know how we all need that little retreat.