An interesting question!
Lady Magnon just about 'tolerates' me. She tolerates the holes in my shoes, socks, trousers, pants, T shirts, and sweatshirts. She tolerates my unusual sense of tidiness. And she tolerates my intolerance.
My three children have now accepted that I'm the only father they'll ever have. Having drawn life's short straw, they humour me, pretend to laugh at my jokes, and pat me on the head when I demonstrate my dire lack of technical knowledge (and knowledge in general).
My grandsons know no better. I'm just their 'Grumpy' who supplies them with adventures, danger, and occasionally sweets.
However, there is one who loves me above all else; my lovely Billy. He follows me around biting my hands and legs, he settles on my lap when I watch TV, staring permanently up into my eyes. In his own special way, he has told me that he would lay down his life for me.
He is devoted to me to the extent of being 'intrusive'. He has become my very shadow.
I make no comparisons, but George V had a dog who loved him so much that it would faint every time they met. At their very last meeting, the dog passed out, and remained 'unconscious' for the entire hour of their encounter.
Billy has yet to follow this fine example, but I'm expecting it at any minute.
And, of course, his daddy loves him too!
N.B. I originally wrote the above about Bok in 2013, but it is just as appropriate about Billy today.