Today's topic: dating

Well Mom's 29 now and I really can't tell a difference. She still goes to work so she must not be ready to retire yet. I'm excited for the day she is. I imagine we'll spend our days relaxing — just Mom and me growing old together, which brings me to today's topic: dating (not me, Mom). 

I remember Mom's last boyfriend; we'll call him Buttons.

The first time I met Buttons was the night of their first date. After they had dinner, they came home to watch a movie. Well, I wasn't about to be the third wheel so I nestled in on Mom's lap, front and center. 

They talked as they watched and seemed to forget I was there so I decided to start making a bit of a fuss. I could tell Mom was getting frustrated with me but I don't think Buttons could. After all, it was their first date and she wanted to make a good impression. 

Mom tried putting me in my kennel to calm me down but that was the last place I wanted to be! So I barked and dare I say, even squeaked — that high frequency sound you can't ignore. After about 30 seconds of that, Mom realized I wasn't in the mood to be kenneled. Plan B. 

Mom thought maybe I would be quieter if she let me cuddle up on our bed. After all, that's my favorite place in the house. But not tonight, I wanted to be out mingling with them. However, when I got in the room I noticed something; something with the potential for better returns than barking. I spotted Button's coat. Mom must have forgot she laid it on the bed. 

It was a beautiful coat, a coat made by this Hugo guy's Boss (whoever that is). Mom's coat was lying right beside it but I didn't pay attention to that. Button's coat didn't belong here. It smelled ... different and not a good kind of different. I've got good instincts on these things. 

So there I sat, on the edge of the bed contemplating how I would vandalize this thing. Then I saw those perfectly stitched buttons ...

About 10 minutes later, I overheard Mom in the other room saying, "It's awfully quiet. I'm going to check on Murphy ..."

The door opened and the look on Mom's face was priceless. I've never seen her speechless before but she actually had no words. She looked back at Buttons (the guy, not the chewed-up things) and tears filled her eyes. Finally she managed to say, "I AM SO SORRY!"

Surprisingly the guy didn't get mad. He didn't yell. Didn't accept her offer to get it fixed. Didn't hold a single grudge — even against me! He was perfectly polite, understanding and kind. 

WHAT WAS THIS GUY'S DEAL?! 

Needless to say, Buttons took Mom on another date ... and another ... and another. Apparently, he liked her despite her young and mischievous pup. 

So here I sit in 2017, a time when it's back to just Mom and me growing old together — exactly how it's supposed to be. 

And that's what I'm mulling over today. 

Your friend,

Murphs

A younger, more mischievous me