He is a mass of destruction, demolishing anything in his path that his teeth take a shining to. His latest casualties? The neighbors rope when they graciously watched him for us this past Sunday, and Colton's shoe. We're getting better at clearing a path for him, but when we lapse in our efforts to put our things away, he makes sure we know.
And yet, he redeems himself, usually within minutes of his mischievousness. He spent 6 hours in his kennel yesterday, which is the longest time by far. We were so wrapped up in chemo, and an engine light steadily glowing on the truck, and hockey for both boys, and - you know, life in general, that Crosby had to wait.
So when we finally arrived back home and let him out? He bounded into our arms and licked us up and down and wiggled his not so little body in utter delight at being freed. And he redeemed himself, for all his past transgressions, and all his future ones too. He may not be perfect in his manners, but he is perfect in his love for us. And isn't that what really matters? Love that is big, and sloppy, and limitless... and perfect.