At the end of a long day, when I open the kitchen door from the garage, the first person (usually) to greet me is Hazel. She will come bounding across the kitchen floor in my direction and I know this because I can hear the “tap-tap-tap” or her claws as they hit the laminate floors. With ears pulled back, she proceeds to jump on me, and opens her eyes fairly wide. After she calms down, she might sit there and wait for me to address her. And, since she hasn’t seen me all day, she will follow me throughout the main floor of our home, pausing only when I take a seat or stop to talk to one of the girls. What I’ve learned from Hazel is that while I am the least attentive to her (I am not as touchy-feely with her, especially since I am asthmatic), Hazel is unfazed. Her love for me is equal to that of the girls and there’s never a moment when she doesn’t desire to show me affection or greet me with a sweet lick of my ankle.