Canine or human?

This has always been the question with my dog, Butch. He is a canine, but he thinks he's a human! I swear, if you look into his eyes, you can tell what he's thinking. Take, for example, the other night. My brother is back from Florida, but to Butch, he "Stranger Danger." When Brad is around him for the first few days, Butch gets this fearful look in his eyes, like "He's okay for now, but please don't leave me alone with him!" The other night, I heard Butch push my bedroom door open and kind of pace around. He eventually laid down and slept on the floor. When he woke me up to go outside, he "herded" me to the living room. That is when I saw my brother, passed out on the floor in the living room (he'd been out for quite a while the day/night prior to this! Welcome home!) Butch stopped, looked at Brad, then me, then Brad, then me with a look that said "Do you believe the balls on this guy? He's sleeping in MY living room?" He entertains me.

Last week we had some pretty fierce storms. Of course, when it storms, I go to the fire station and usually end up out in the middle of nowhere checking for tornadoes...God love small towns! Butch is not a fan of storms...at all. He gets very nervous and paces around most of the time. When he was younger, I would take him to the fire station with me, and he'd be distracted by everyone there. However, he no longer wants to get in the car, so now he has to stay home. When I got home that night, I found him in my room, with his head buried under my bed. Poor thing! I usually always find him in my room if something bad has happened...apparently it's my job to save him!

I have so many more stories about Butch. He's the funniest dog/human I've ever met! One of my favorite stories is from when he was little. He and my dad were in charge of handing out Halloween candy one year. Dad had cooked some bacon and made "bacon sandwiches" (his version of BLT's). The doorbell rang, and dad put his open pepsi on the endtable, and the uneaten half of his sandwich on top of the can. When he went back to pick it up, all he had was the pepsi! Butch swiped the bacon sandwich without spilling the open can of pop it was sitting on, then looked at my dad with a "What? It wasn't me!" look!

My poor old puppy is just that...old. When we got him, we were told he was a black lab. And he looks like one, one that was bred with a Great Dane! He's huge! He has really long legs, a Dane head and hips, but looks like a lab. He's 12, and I'm not sure how much time we have left with him. He's really failed in the past few years. He remains, however, my entertainment.