So, our pets don't really make any bones about which parent is their favorite. Henry has been devoted to Hugh since the day that Hugh picked him up from the pound five and a half years ago. And Fletcher, well, he's a Momma's dog:
If you had told me two years ago I would ever let a dog lick me, much less encourage him to do so by teaching the command, "Give me a kiss," I would have laughed in your face. What can I say? This pup has my heart. But every now and then, I fear that Fletcher may be trying to switch teams because, try as I might, I'll never be as good at chase as Hugh:
Why, yes, yes that is a log in Fletcher's mouth. Don't even think about it, dog. You are mine for life.
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