We picked her up first-thing on the way back from the airport.
Shooting into the house like a seed from a squeezed tomato,
her joyful mood suddenly turned serious when she said: "There’s no place
like home. You must promise to never go away again!”
I reassured her: “I’ll try girl, at least it won’t be for a
very long time if I do.”
But she didn’t hear me at all. She was too busy running from
place to place, finding all the bones she had left behind before her abrupt
incarceration. Piling them up in her bed, all only half chewed, we both knew
she had a lot of bone cleaning work to do before morning.
The sounds of her gnawing, happily snuggled down on the big
green dog pillow, her tail slapping a steady beat, caused me to echo Dorothy's
words. to myself as well:
It's true, there's no place like home.
No comments:
Post a Comment