There is a moment in every dog's life when they become Perfect. For some dogs, this is when they are born. For example, Mina. Other dogs take longer to achieve a peerless state. For example, Celeste.
This is all subjective, of course. Celeste embodied perfection when she was born. All dogs do. So when I say Perfect, I mean by my standards. Unfair and egregiously anthropocentric. This I know.
When Celeste entered my world, I met her with resistance. Here was a puppy capable of learning the bathroom rules in two days. It took Mina two weeks. As an adult. Embarrassing. Celeste explored the world with gusto and inquisitiveness. Mina thought all were out to get her. Not Celeste.
How fascinating, Celeste was the ideal dog, but for me, she was a mystery. So unlike the Gold Standard of Mina. Mina, sassy. Mina, leash reactive. Mina, dog selective. Mina, deep gazer. Mina, ultimate thinker. World on her shoulders, Mina. Woe, Queen of.
And there was Celeste, happy. Exploratory. Confident. Socialite. Decision maker.
I never disliked Celeste. I never DIDN'T love her.
But I never felt she was Perfect.
Humans are good at unfair.
Dogs don't care.