Friday evenings had their own special tradition at our house—something Chooch looked forward to all week. It wasn’t just the end of the workweek, or the promise of a cozy night in. For Chooch, Friday meant one glorious thing: Pizza Crust Friday.
It all started years ago when I brought home a hot, cheesy pizza and sat on the front step to enjoy it. Chooch, just a curious pup back then, climbed up beside me and stared with those big, pleading eyes. I gave him the end of my crust, and from that moment on, we had ourselves an unspoken deal—Fridays were for sharing.
Now, no matter how hectic life gets, Chooch and I never miss it. I’ll order our favorite pie, grab two napkins, and we’ll settle on the step together. I eat my slice, he watches intently, and when I get to the crust, I hand it over like a prized treasure. He takes it gently, tail wagging, eyes sparkling like he just won the lottery.
This week, CiCi was hanging around, curious about our little ritual. She sat by the railing, watching as we tucked into our pizza. I could tell she was wondering if she’d get a piece too—but Chooch wasn’t about to give up his sacred Friday moment. He pressed close to me, his chin on my shoulder, eyes locked on my slice as if to say, “Don’t forget the rules, Dad.”
Of course, CiCi got her own treat later, but Pizza Crust Friday? That’s still ours. The same step, the same spot, the same slow enjoyment of each bite until that final crunchy piece goes to my best friend.
Some people have fancy weekend plans. We have pizza crust, a front step, and a bond that doesn’t need words. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Here’s to another Friday, another crust, and another happy tail thumping against my side. 🍕❤️🐶
