[Editor’s note: The following accounts are both true Further, they describe events with the same
dog. And, despite the natural flow, the
two moments captured here occurred months apart. Propriety prohibits me from divulging any
additional information.]
·
The dog did what I told
her to, and so without really thinking I said, “Thank you.” For a moment we
just sort of looked at each other in awkward silence, and then she went back to
licking her leg. I think in her heart she knew nothing had really changed for
her.
·
After a while, and with
gentle encouragement from me and a bunch of frantic sniffing for the right spot
by her, the old dog finally pooped. “Good Girl!”, I cheered. She side glanced
me, trying to be nonchalant, but clearly pretty proud of her newly birthed
loaf. As the sun set on the poo and dew-kissed backyard, we slowly retired to
the house, ready for a milkbone and whisky toast to her latest triumph.
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