Categorized | Features, Laurie's Scribbles

There’s More Time To Dote On Libby, The Perfect Dog


Laurie, with her empty-nester dog, Libby

By Laurie Stone

I can see my husband rolling his eyes now. “If I hear about this dog one more time ….” He calls her a “football-size tornado.” To me, she’s my adorable Papillion/Yorkie. I love Libby. And despite his bluster, so does Randy.

Maybe you’re contemplating getting a dog. If that’s true, let me recount how Libby makes life better, with one small exception.

Good Timing

If Libby had arrived when I had two sticky-fingered little boys running around, I would’ve gone mad. For a dog that weighs about 10 pounds, Libby’s larger than life. She needs attention. Lots of it. When my kids were little, pets were relegated to being pets. If I had Libby earlier, I never would’ve been able to give her the spoiling devotion I do now, and that would’ve been sad for both of us.

Small and Adorable

Like Halloween candy, Libby comes in “fun size.” She’s little and fluffy. I love scooping her up like a furry baby and kissing her nose (I sense she indulges me on this). Where our former, larger dogs weren’t allowed on the bed or furniture, pint-size Libby goes everywhere. She even fits on the back of my chair as I write, like a low-back pillow. She’s there now, making sure I get her many assets just right.

I never got to deck out my sons in pink (don’t think I didn’t try). So the next best thing is a pink harness and leash for my little girl dog.


Libby knows what she wants and is not above using canine wiles to get it. I often give her a treat when she “does her business” outside. But lately I’ve noticed something. Libby goes out and “pretends” to lift her leg, mimicking going to the bathroom. She comes in expecting that little goodie. It took me a while to catch on. Now I trust, but verify.


Everything’s an invitation to play for Libby — moving your hand a certain way, eye contact, breathing. Libby loves when I toss one of her many plush toys (which, like a toddler, she leaves all over the house) high in the air and goes for that “mid-air catch.” She’s so proud when she accomplishes this feat. She’ll shake the toy while we try and “rescue” it from her. Libby takes playtime seriously and schedules it in everyday.

A Girlie Girl

I never got to deck out my sons in pink (don’t think I didn’t try). So the next best thing is a pink harness and leash for my little girl dog. She even has a pink crate. The other day I picked out a little raincoat for her. It’s such a nice change from the navy blue blazers and white shirts of my sons’ “dress up” occasions. Now I can go crazy. If I could buy her skirts and dresses I would.


Libby never leaves my lap or anyone else’s for that matter. She must be touching someone — always. Many times if I’m on my bed, Libby has to lie right next to me. This is fine for a while, but she starts getting too warm. I try and adjust her and she’ll stay away for a while, but eventually comes back like a heat-seeking missile. My God, I wanted a lap dog, but this is ridiculous.

The Challenging Part

Libby runs the house

She’s bossy. Libby feels she runs our house. And God help anyone coming through that she hasn’t authorized with visitation privileges. This can lead to loud barking at perfectly wonderful people. (I always cursed those yappy little dogs. Now I have one.) A British friend spent a few hours with Libby and declared, in his upper crust accent, “She’s s an irritable little creature.”

I beg to differ. Libby isn’t irritable. She just likes to make her presence known — enthusiastically.

But love is blind. Or in my case, deaf.

To me, Libby’s not only wonderful. She’s useful. My kids have grown. I needed something to indulge and cuddle and love.

And that’s why pets are nice later in life. I’ve had animals since I was a kid, but there’s something especially sweet about their companionship now, especially with an empty nest.

Yes, Libby’s my baby. The best thing is she won’t grow up and borrow the car and come home too late. She won’t wear too much make-up. She won’t go off to college and someday get married and move away.

Libby will stay right where she is — loving us, making us laugh, and sometimes driving us crazy. She’s ours forever (well, almost).

And for me, that makes her perfect.

Laurie Stone writes from the woods of Easton, Conn. Her blog, Musings, Rants & Scribbles,” shares thoughts on growing up, older and (hopefully) wiser. Follow her on FacebookTwitter, and Pinterest.

3 Responses to “There’s More Time To Dote On Libby, The Perfect Dog”

  1. Diane says:

    I think it’s your stories of Libbytheperfect that encouraged me to get my mid-life puppy. And you’re so right. Pandy has taken over the household. We couldn’t be happier!

  2. Haralee says:

    She is adorable! Who couldn’t indulge her? I agree the attachment seems greater in later life!

  3. Lauren says:

    I need a Libby. She’s adorable. Being the mother of two boys I want a girl dog to cuddle. My husband knows I want a dog but keeps refusing. One day I am just going to bring her home. Your stories about Libby always get me going on the “I need a dog” path again!


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