Dogs have always been a cherished part of my family. In searching through old photos, I laugh when I find writing scrawled on the back, listing not the human’s name, but the dog’s.
Gramp Ferry had a dog. Used it to hunt rattlers in Arizona. His name was “Tootsy.” What a sweet name for a snake killer.
Gramp Blaine had a dog, don’t know his name, but how about something like “King” or “Brutus?”
Now, we have two dogs, Bella and Maggie. Bella came into our life late – we adopted her when she was nine. With our old girl, Maggie (she’s ten), our family’s complete. You couldn’t get two more opposite creatures. When I look at Bella, I can tell she’s thinking, “love” as in, “I love you, I love to eat, I love to play soccer. Would you love to play soccer with me?”
And when I look at Maggie I hear, “You want me to do what with what? There better be a biscuit involved, because if there’s not you can count me out. And that stick? Go fetch it yourself. I’ve better things to do.”