Piper's Blog

Years ago — before I was born, before their first anniversary, before Dada had figured out he wanted to marry her — Mom did something I find genuinely impressive. She bought him a guitar.

She didn't know yet she was going to marry him. But she was already showing up like she was.

Not a starter guitar. Not a normal guitar. A two thousand dollar guitar.

I have heard this number said out loud a few times. It is always Dada saying it. He'll bring it up out of nowhere — at dinner, in the car, to a stranger — like he still can't quite believe it. Mom never mentions it. She just smiles a little when he does. Two thousand dollars. For one guitar. I could chew through a lot of toys for that.

But here's the thing about that guitar. It lives in a case. A big, soft, dark, perfectly Piper-sized case. And I want to be clear about something.

That case is mine.

Exhibit A. Exhibit B. Exhibit C.

Don't get me wrong. Dada plays the guitar. He takes it out, he tunes it, he does all the human guitar things. But an empty case, lid open, soft inside, on the floor? That is a bed. That is, in my professional opinion, the best napping spot in the entire house.

I have tried other beds. The dog bed Mom bought. The couch. Dada's lap. They are all fine. But there is something about a guitar case. The shape of it. The way it holds you. The faint smell of wood. It feels important. Like I'm guarding something valuable — which, technically, I am.

Over the years, Dada has gotten more guitars. I have watched this happen. Each one comes home and he gets very excited and tells Mom all about it, and she's into it too. There are now several. I don't keep count — I am not the family accountant.

But here's what I've noticed. When Dada really wants to play — when he's actually going to play, not just noodle around — it is almost always the first one. The one Mom got him. He'll walk past the others. He'll reach for that one. He'll sit down with it like they have history.

Because they do.

That guitar has been there the whole time. For everything.

I'm not a music critic. But I notice things.

I think about this sometimes, from inside the case, watching them. Dada playing. Mom on the couch, full volume, singing every word she knows and confidently improvising the ones she doesn't. I don't know the song. I don't know the chords. I'm a dog. But I know what it sounds like when somebody loves a thing for a long time and keeps coming back to it.

It sounds like home.

I have a feeling it'll keep sounding like that for a long time.

I'm staying right here.

— Piper 🐾

This weekend Dada and Mom took me back to Burton Chace Park in Marina del Rey. I knew exactly where we were the moment we arrived. I have a very good nose and an even better memory.

I've been here before. I was here for the big one.

It was May 27, 2024. We drove out to Marina del Rey — lunch first, then bikes, then something Dada had been quietly planning for a while. I did not know about the plan. But I had a feeling. I always have a feeling.

We ate at Hi Ho Burger. The smell was incredible and I handled it extremely well. I sat at Dada's feet like a perfect angel and did not beg even once. I simply made very intense eye contact with the table and hoped for the best.

After lunch, bikes. Dada put me in a backpack, which is honestly the best seat in the house. Great views. Zero effort. I supervised everything from up there and I think I really contributed.

What I didn't know — or maybe I did, in my dog way — was that Dada had a ring in his pocket the whole time.

He had a spot picked out. We walked to it. The ground was absolutely covered in bird droppings. A lot of them. Dada looked at the ground. Dada looked at Mom. Dada made the right call. You cannot get down on one knee in that. I respected it.

We kept walking. We found Burton Chace Park. The light was perfect. The ground was clean. Mom was fully panicking about whether the parking meter had run out.

She had absolutely no idea.

Dada got down. He asked. I was right there — front row, best seat, very attentive. I saw the whole thing.

Mom went quiet. She was shocked, just standing there with her hand over her mouth. Then it hit her, and yes, obviously, yes, of course yes.

And those photos? Dada didn't take those himself. Some college kids nearby saw what was happening and jumped in to capture the whole thing. We don't know who they are. But they got it. Thank you, strangers. You did good.

This weekend we went back just to walk around and remember it. Same park. Same smell. Same good feeling.

I always knew they were going to do this.

— Piper 🐾

Okay so. I've been sitting on this for a while, and I think it's finally time to talk about it.

My humans are getting married.

Now, before you say anything — yes, I know what marriage means. It means more people come to the house. It means fancy outfits. It means someone new might give me treats. I am, as the kids say, cautiously optimistic.

Let me tell you about my dad, Dada. Dada is the one who gets up early. He's the best kind of human — the kind who always checks if I want to go outside before he's even had his coffee. He throws the ball with real commitment. Not that half-hearted toss some humans do. No. When Dada throws the ball, he means it. I respect that. Also he lets me sit on his feet when he's working, which is very important for keeping him grounded. You're welcome, Dada.

And then there's my mom, Jess. Jess talks to me like I understand everything she's saying, and honestly? I do. She knows exactly where behind my ears to scratch — left side, slightly behind the base. She always saves me the last little corner of her toast. Always. That's not coincidence. That's love.

Together we are the perfect pack. We watch YouTube and sports, argue about what to have for dinner, and somehow always end up eating late at night. They play scary computer games while I supervise from the couch — someone has to keep watch. They feed me The Farmer's Dog, which, if you haven't had it, is genuinely the best thing that has ever happened to me. We are warm and loud and we make the house feel like home.

So yes. They are getting married. At a place called Ojai, which sounds like somewhere I would absolutely love to sniff around for several hours. I have not received my formal invitation yet but I'm keeping my schedule open just in case.

I am very happy for them. They are good humans. They deserve this.

Also I heard there will be pizza on Friday and I would like some.

— Piper 🐾

I don't want to over-explain this. Sometimes you just have to run. The reason doesn't matter. The destination doesn't matter. What matters is the running.

Dada filmed it. I think he understood.

Thank you for watching.

— Piper 🐾