I was at my parents' house the other day, feeling sad. Just laying in my old bedroom, wondering where the good had gone. And suddenly, well, some good came in and jumped right into bed with me.
A pure, slobbery, tongue-lolling faithful friend.
Not usually allowed in beds, he was pleased as punch to be in one with me.
And we lay there.
His great big furry bulk pressed up against my body. His whiskers tickling my cheeks. The steady rise and fall of his rib cage just calm and consistent, blessedly consistent right now. And I didn't feel better, but I felt alive. I felt like his fur was real, and that was nice. I could press my palms against his spine and know that I was real too. And when his tail wagged it was good. Pure, even. I didn't see a lot of reasons for it necessarily, but maybe his reason for wagging his tail was me.
And maybe that's enough.
And maybe I actually got him to wear a hat and stay still long enough to pose for a picture too.
9 comments:
Hahah I love that picture. What a beast.
Animals always know, and I love that about them. There is something so comforting about a living creature who can't speak (and therefore can't even say the wrong thing!) but seems to understand nevertheless.
Our pets always snuggle with our kids when they are sick or have a migraine. They always say, "Do you think he knows?" And I say, "Absolutely."
Strider...he's just a giant lovable puppy, isn't he?!
I love that dog!!!!! No Brewster yet, until Christmas, so I have to live through you boo! Thanks for posting, and the cute pic with the hat!
Sometimes my cats are the only thing that can make me feel better. Primarily because they don't say anything. They just sit there on me purring and being the warmth that I can't seem too find in life.
I think this is why Dan want a dog so badly - quiet, big, furry love.
Strider is a great therapy dog. And he doesn't charge money. Just a bone or two depending on how long the session is.
Awe, Strider rocks.
What a sweet dog..
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