Sunday, November 20, 2011
She knows the sound of hair spray means I will be coming out of the bathroom.
She knows the shoes that mean we're going for a walk.
She know words - lots of them, because yes, I talk to her constantly.
She anticipates every room that we are going into.
She knows the sound of my spoon clinking in the cereal bowl means breakfast is over.
She hears the crinkle of a bag of shredded cheese from rooms away and knows she'll get a little pile of it on the floor.
She knows my fingers snapping in the night mean - stop that horrible licking.
She is a relentless hunter, catching only one squirrel in 8 noble years of trying (and then dropping it in confusion)
She hears one single sniffle and she is immediately at my side pleading to be a comfort. Her eyes locked on mine - fearful but steadfast.
She knows without a doubt when I need her, when I need a snuggle, when I am lonely. And she is always right. She's a gift from God. Like all dogs, giving unconditional love, forgiving, affectionate and true.
She's just a mutt that nobody wanted - but I'm glad we found each other.