It’s a dog’s life.

I feel like  I’ve said “in my next life I want to come back as my/your dog”, but I don’t think I actually have. It doesn’t  sound like me.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter,  because I lead a dog’s life now.

New, nervous, 11 month old, Nellie moved in on April 30.

She and I have spent the last month and a half becoming aware of our commonalities.

We sleep.

We get fed.

We go to the bathroom.

We sit outside.

We play.

We get mad.

We get sad.

We amuse.

We bushwack.

We stare.

We listen.

We ride in cars.

We dig things.

We explore.

We scare ourselves.

We love our family.

We give ourselves space.

It’s true that I spend more time in the car than Nellie does, but she sleeps more. 

It’s also true that I have to remind Nellie when she needs her own space, and she often has to remind me when it’s time for food.

Despite my lame throwing and her lame understanding of “STOP NIPPING”, we both agree that we are very content.

Pour ma grande mère, Francine D. Reed, j’aimerais que tu soit ici pour en discuter avec moi. Profite de ta prochaine vie.