The Urban Dictionary defines a grand-dog as “baby boomers whose kids have pets instead of kids”. That's us … at least for our oldest son and his wife. They adopted Olive, a pit bull puppy, over a year ago, but we had yet to meet her. Now almost two years old, Olive is fairly well-mannered (for a two year old) and very loveable despite having to overcome abuse as a puppy and the social stigma attached to being born a pit bull. She had no problems meeting her grandparents for the first time and showed her pleasure with lots of licking, tail wagging, ball fetching and gnawing of rawhide chews (provided by said grandparents).
Having family spread across the USA makes getting together for the holidays difficult. We take what we can get and this weekend Brennan, Hannah and Olive managed a quick 3-day trip from Washington, DC to Boston for a pre-Christmas visit. Olive does well on car rides and unbeknownst to us, because we don't own a pet, many hotels accommodate four-legged guests most graciously. Since Olive goes pretty much everywhere her “parents” go, that's a good thing.
I saw a van the other day with an “I love my grand-dog” bumper sticker on it. I'm not thinking we'll get one for the boat though.