Personal Essays
smile
To say that I love my dog is an understatement, yet it is the best I can do. I love my dog, and I do my best to make sure that her life with me is a good one. It turns out that my mother was right. I needed a dog. I got one, and I can’t imagine finding one who could’ve been a better fit for me. Sweet Pea and I are friends, we are a team. I don’t even mind when she drools on me. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what love is.
I miss Stacy, and I am sure I will miss her every day as long as I live, but this dog, with her intelligence and warmth and humor and giant heart, slowly, steadily helped bring me up from the well of crushing grief. I can only repay her with long walks and treats and belly rubs and hope it’s enough. Because even though I may have rescued this dog from life in a cold cement-and-chain-link pen in a shelter, this dog, this Sweet Pea, she rescued me right back.
I miss Stacy, and I am sure I will miss her every day as long as I live, but this dog, with her intelligence and warmth and humor and giant heart, slowly, steadily helped bring me up from the well of crushing grief. I can only repay her with long walks and treats and belly rubs and hope it’s enough. Because even though I may have rescued this dog from life in a cold cement-and-chain-link pen in a shelter, this dog, this Sweet Pea, she rescued me right back.