Every day since we got Sheffield, my father grooms him. It’s not his job, it’s not his duty since I’m technically the fur ball’s owner, and he certainly isn’t obligated to do what he does - but he does.
When my father was growing up in Malaysia, I was regaled, his family had upwards of six dogs. He was also born in the year of the dog according to the Chinese zodiac. My mother, who grew up in the same neighbourhood he did, also was born in the same year. Just titbits of background information there, not sure if one thing correlates with another to his love and loyalty towards dogs. Maybe he just likes dogs.
What I do know is that he’s a great father to me and to my best friend made of nothing but fur and only love to give.
That is enough.
Front row seats to a view of the world only he sees. I need a GoPro camera asap.
What are these photos about?
Sheffield gets excited sometimes when he’s comfortable. By sometimes I mean all the time. We kinda spoil him.
It’s not an easy job with this hyperactive fella, but he lets my father do it.
Till next time. Treat your pets right. Don’t fuck up.
© 2026 gent
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