Puppy-eyed

I sometimes look into Joe's eyes, trying to fathom what he's thinking - always unsuccessfully.

The only time I can deduce what he's thinking is when he isn't - when he simply needs something: to go out, to go for a walk, to play.

But sometimes, usually when I've just come home, or awoken, or have a rawhide bone in hand - sometimes, he looks at me with such adoration.

I wish I could live a life as simple, joy-filled and direct as my puppy, instead I'm grateful for joy he brings into my life by being a happy, happy puppy.