Maybe he just likes your deodorant...

Mom puts the food on the table and I hustle to get the salt, the pepper, the ketchup my kid sister can't live without. Meredith and I fight for the taller glass of milk, and as usual, I win this battle. We sit down, anxious to dig in. I pick at the mashed potatoes when I think no one's looking and Meredith gives me a dirty look. Mom sits and hollers at Dad to get off his phone, and finally, all four of us are united, yet another evening of Mom's good cookin' and each other's company.

But before anyone can share the highlights of their day and the idiots and/or good samaritans they met along the way, we hold hands and bow our heads to say grace, to thank the Lord for these entertaining and ever so special people in our lives. It's Dad's turn tonight, Mom insists. Eyes closed (except for maybe Meredith's because I swear she peeks to see if I'm peeking), Dad blesses the food, and he asks God to be with those who can't be at the dinner table peeking during prayer and stealing morsels with us tonight, but before he can get to the part about how insanely lucky we are for our nutty family, Mom lets out a snort. He pauses. He peeks- well we all do- and continues. 

Aaaagh, HANK!!!!! 

-and a cold wet nose sneaks its way up my armpit. Dad hurries to the "Amen" but that cold wet nose finds a new victim and poor Dad is assaulted in the same manner. Forget an amen, God would understand, because it is apparent that the blessing of the food has just been punk'd, and not by Ashton Kutcher, but by a

BIG

FAT

HAIRY

STINKY

DOG

And we were all unfazed, because we loved that dog.

And I would give an arm and a leg for that canine to interrupt our prayer tonight; In fact, I'd do anything just to have his reeking, disgusting breath all over my steak and potatoes just one more time.
I can try to pretend, but that horrific aroma surely can't be replicated. And no human, animal, or celebrity could replace the best addition to the Anderson table there ever was. Never again.


We miss you, Hank.


And I can just see you now, nudging God's armpit when he's trying to listen to the prayers we send every night, and I bet he smirks and squirms just as much as we did-- and I know he loves you that much, too.