There was a piece on tonight's NBC Nightly News about how much people are willing to spend on their pet's health care.
I wanted to cover Meg's ears during the debate.
Meg is our golden retriever. She has been part of our family for the past eight or so years. I'm pretty sure she thinks she is one of our children.
This would be because she is the last one home. All of our human kids have places of their own now; Meg is the one who is still here, waiting to welcome them all home again.
Which she does, with great joy. When she hears a car on the drive, she wakes up, goes to the door, then turns around to go get a gift for the new arrival. Socks, bones, small toys one of the grandkids left lying around – she doesn't care what, so long as she has something to offer someone at the door. Her tail wags, her face smiles – she knows how to welcome someone home.
With dog wisdom, Meg teaches me a lot about what it means to love, to welcome, to trust. She is patient with our busyness, although occasionally we rate her cold shoulder. She is curious, eager to sniff out whatever is just around the corner. She is gentle, curling herself around our infant grandchildren, just in case they might need protection. She listens, without condemnation or criticism.
When it storms, she's right there with me in the basement, and when the sun shines she waits by the window, hoping for a trip to the backyard.
Do you suppose angels ever take the form of golden retrievers?
I wanted to cover Meg's ears during the debate.
Meg is our golden retriever. She has been part of our family for the past eight or so years. I'm pretty sure she thinks she is one of our children.
This would be because she is the last one home. All of our human kids have places of their own now; Meg is the one who is still here, waiting to welcome them all home again.
Which she does, with great joy. When she hears a car on the drive, she wakes up, goes to the door, then turns around to go get a gift for the new arrival. Socks, bones, small toys one of the grandkids left lying around – she doesn't care what, so long as she has something to offer someone at the door. Her tail wags, her face smiles – she knows how to welcome someone home.
With dog wisdom, Meg teaches me a lot about what it means to love, to welcome, to trust. She is patient with our busyness, although occasionally we rate her cold shoulder. She is curious, eager to sniff out whatever is just around the corner. She is gentle, curling herself around our infant grandchildren, just in case they might need protection. She listens, without condemnation or criticism.
When it storms, she's right there with me in the basement, and when the sun shines she waits by the window, hoping for a trip to the backyard.
Do you suppose angels ever take the form of golden retrievers?
2 comments:
That's my doggy! And my Pickup truck! Meggy is rather an impressive old girl- a good dog who truly has human characteristics as some pets do. She was my best friend through high school and she still is. She was always excited to hear about my recent trips on Navy ships. I love my dog; if only I could convince my wife that a similar dog would be right for us!
I love meggy moo the doggy doo, too!
Post a Comment