So, when I spoke to my boyfriend today he relayed a story about Buddy that, like most Buddy stories, shows how ridiculously adorable he is. Because I wasn’t the one who directly observed the event I’m going to embellish a little bit, so bear with me.
Our fridge died a few days back and we ordered a new one. Thankfully, free delivery was included in the price. When the delivery guys got there, Buddy was safely in his pen out of the way of the doorway so they could get through with the fridge. But, because he is a dog, he had to bark to let everyone know that he knew that there were new people coming into the house. And, because he’s Buddy, he had to excitedly jump as high as his little legs could kick him (which is impressively high given his size) while he barked.
Well, when these delivery guys came in, they took a look at the source of the excited barking. One of them asked the question that everyone asks: what kind of dog is that? And my boyfriend told him: he’s a toy poodle.
Now this guy was a bad-looking mofo. He was big. He was crazy muscular. He was tall and broad and looked like he could break you in half with one hand. (At least that’s how he looks in my head.) And, because I’m telling the story, he had a voice as deep as Barry White’s. Got the image?
Now imagine this guy looking at this tiny, cute ball of fluff who could easily be described as a ‘floofy dog’ that big, bad guys typically don’t go for and saying “A man could fall in love with that dog.” Yeah, that’s what he said. Does that kill you, or is it just me?
The power of Buddy: turning even the toughest mofos to mush.