We have a new addition to our family, Riley, a one-year-old lab mix pup from Mississippi. Being southern, he demands a Mint Julep every day at 3.

Currently, we’re training him to be obedient. To be clear, we are being trained by the trainer to train the dog. Riley must be trained. Taxidermy or private school are out of the question.

I love rolling over and waking up to Riley in my bed because he never asks for coffee or cab fare.

I’m learning so much from this dog: love, compassion, perseverance, and now I always turn around three times before I lay down.

I always remember to never stand between a fire hydrant and my dog.

Right now, in this strange culture that we’re all navigating, I think the world would be a nicer place if everyone had the ability to love as unconditionally as a dog. I think the president could use a dog right about now – with a breed that matches his his personality. I would recommend a Belgian Malinois. They are used in police work. If this high-maintenance breed is not trained properly, they can become bored, stressed, mouthy, overexcitable, reactive and a big challenge. Sounds about right.

That said, the average dog is nicer than the average person.

Riley is a smart dog. He knows a lot, but never tells.

They say there are three faithful friends: an old spouse, an old dog and ready money.

Every time Riley licks my face, I get the urge to brush my teeth. And then brush his.

Since Riley is a boy dog (like it matters), I will undress in front of him. If I get a nod or head tilt from him, I’m having a good day.

When I’m getting dressed, I notice that Riley admires me, but I never take it as conclusive evidence that I am awesome.

Riley gets perturbed when I blow in his face, yet he insists on hanging his head out the car window.

I realize that every time I walk into a room and forget why I entered, that’s how Riley spends his entire day.

I wonder if Riley thinks poodles are members of a weird religious cult.

To Riley, the whole world is one big smell.

If aliens saw me picking up Riley’s poop, I’m sure they would question who is in charge.

I feel sorry for people who don’t have a dog. I hear they have to pick up food that falls on the floor.

I know I can trust Riley to guard the house. I do not trust him to guard my sandwich. Come to think of it, I don’t trust him to guard the house either.

No home is complete without dog hair.

If you want the best seat in the house, you’ll have to move the dog.

I love Riley because he never does anything for political reasons.

The other morning, Riley wound up with my briefs on his head. Sadly, I was still wearing them.

I wanted to name Riley “Shark,” and then take him to the beach.

We almost got a German Shepherd, but I didn’t want to have to learn another language.

If we ever experience a tropical storm or a natural disaster, I’m going to put hot dogs and cheese in my pockets so Riley will search for me first.

Riley does not chase cars. He sits on the curb and takes down license plates.

I like having Riley around in the event that I experience flatus. That way I can blame it on him.

I read that owning a dog makes you ten years younger. My first thought was to rescue two more dogs, but I don’t want to go through puberty again.

Dogs are our link to paradise. Because dogs don’t know evil or jealousy. And they don’t whine about wanting expensive jewelry.

I saw a sign in a shop that read, “Guide Dogs Welcome.” So I went in and was greeted by a Golden Retriever who took my hat and coat and promptly buried them in the yard.

For Riley’s next birthday, I’m just going to throw him a ball. I know it sounds extravagant, but I’ll bet he’d look great in a tuxedo.

My sister has a boxer. Every time the doorbell rings, he goes into the corner.

My goal in life is to be as wonderful as Riley thinks I am.

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