COWBOY

A little over a month ago, I adopted a lovely dog by the name of Cowboy. I felt the name suited him, so I decided not to change it.

He’s been such a pleasure to have as a companion in that time. He picks up on new commands pretty well, and listens, too. I take him out three times a day, but you’d think each day was his first time out, the way he sniffs about at everything. The way he perks up when he sees a chipmunk never gets old.

Before I had adopted him, I had bought a doggy bed for him. Originally I had this set next to my desk, thinking that once he’s bonded with me, he may want to be near me. That’s not quite what happened; fact of the matter is, he rarely uses it. Indeed, just about the only time he will use it is when I kick him out of my bed so I can sleep in it.

My bed is easily his favorite spot to sleep, going so far as to climb up onto it once I’ve fallen asleep, too. There have been few days where I woke up and didn’t find him next to me.

That’s just the kind of dog Cowboy is: he’s loving. A little goofy (something I was warned about!), and a little rambunctious, but always affectionate. I love and adore him, and I’m thankful HSBC afforded me the opportunity to give him a new home.

RE: the pictures, he sleeps and lays around pretty often, and doesn’t often respond to attempts to play (though he’ll get very excited when I reach for a lead), so many of my pictures are of him sleeping. On my bed. I did include one of him resting his chin on my thigh. I’m at my desk quite often, and when he does want attention, he’ll waddle over and plop his head down on my thigh. Then, he’ll look up at me with those big brown eyes, and I can’t help but take a few minutes off to give him affection, take him outside, etc.