My Dog..

When I picked up My Dog from the breeders, there were about two or three chocolate lab pups to choose from. Two of them were hyper & jumpy & trying to bite my ears, my pup came shyly up to me. She was timid & gently started licking my feet and legs (it was summertime), I found my pup at that moment.

My Dog, was right by my bedside when I came down with a rare bacterial illness & was gutted like a fish & had some of my insides ripped out and rearranged & could not walk for a few weeks. When the home nurse had to come over to change the dressing, My Dogs little brown nose would pop up against the edge of the high bed to make sure the nurse was doing a good job.

My Dog would wedge herself between myself & alcohol- induced-breath soccer fans when they would sit down an inch away from me at the huge-open field park while watching soccer games on the weekends. I don’t have My Dog right now, she’s not living with me. No, I didn’t put her up for adoption so she would have a better home like you would a child, she’s staying with family & I see her often. I needed to leave my old apt quickly, it was a slight dire of a situation. Now it wasn’t as dire as a war torn coutry were innocent children need to flee from having their limbs blown off. After I found an apt & was told My Dog was allowed & paid a deposit, & after that I was told she was not able to stay here but this story is not about that.

On Sunday My Dog will have another adventure & will be staying in Plymouth, MA (the land of freedom & friends sharing a meal) for a month (I’ll have her every other weekend). I’m thinking of this adventure that started early this week as an opportunity for My Dog to have new adventures & meet new people. She’s eight now & this will be the longest we’ve been apart. She’ll be mine in til her last pant.

Christine Krantz copyrighted 2018