Write About Puppies
You will bend to my will.
Dogs have owned us most of our lives. Greta was a Miniature Schnauzer who thought she was the pack leader of our family even though she depended on us for the basics: food, water, shelter and more.
She needed twice-a-day shots for diabetes, frequent Vet appointments for pancreatitis, Cushing’s Disease, glaucoma that blinded her and eventually took her beautiful clear brown eyes.
Her medical history would fill a small novel.
We’ve missed her for three years, and finally, quit fighting the urge to hear paws on the floor once more.
We tried for a while to adopt a rescue dog from a shelter. Circumstance and compatibility couldn’t seem to get coordinated. We gave up and decided to postpone dog ownership.
And by “enter” I mean full speed ahead, roll around corners, enthusiasm. She comes with a frenzied whirlwind of face-licking while climbing out of your grip, wriggling like a sheet on a clothesline in northern Arizona wind.
This will come as a surprise to you, but puppies have no respect for carpet, tile, or expensive wool area rugs. In fact, the latter they will abuse from both ends: chewing as well as … you know.
They bring something else into the house beside the occasional accident. Puppy breath, antics, and eternal cuteness that would pull a heart as cold as dry ice into their joie de vivre.
She also has no respect for my need to sit quietly at a computer keyboard and type. Leia interrupts novels, short stories, and blogs with happy abandon.
It’s kind of nice.
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Posted on Wednesdays
Thank a veteran.