Two Dogs Dreaming

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There is a dog dreaming next to me. Her muzzle is nuzzling my thigh. Her paws are intertwined and her back is hunched. She is not a small dog, but she’s made herself small so her presence on the couch is less assuming. As if somehow I won’t notice that she’s breaking the rules about being on the couch.

A Nicer, Truer Hufflepuff You Never Will Find

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I think if a member of the Hufflepuff house were to reach into the sorting hat in a moment of need, they would withdraw their hands in slight surprise, having just reached in to find my hedgehog coming to their rescue. They would have, of course, roused her from a nap, and so she would naturally be a little miffed, and thus, a little spikey. But a true Hufflepuff, seeing the good in everyone, even a perturbed hedgehog, would reach back in to find my hedgehog quite forgiving, her quills now laid flat. And in that moment of need, my Hufflepuff would offer the greatest support in any Hufflepuff’s moment of need. She would give a good snuggle, and all trouble would vanish.

Animal Therapy

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When I was a little girl, I opened the door to go outside and play, and found that my front porch had become the resting ground of a baby bird who had flown the nest much too early. I closed the door and broke into sobs, so devastated by the crumpled wings. Later, when I’d gathered my emotions, I went out to give the baby a birdie burial. But I heard my dad on the other side of the door.
            “Uh oh,” he said to someone, I think my brother. “We better take care of this before Sierra finds it.”
            He knew about my tender nature. He knew that my first love, before I loved writing, or theatre, or movies, or hanging out with friends, I first loved animals. I even wanted to become a vet before I realized that I had no brain for science whatsoever.
            I still think that the very saddest day of my life was the day my dog died. Now, you might say that I haven’t had a very hard life, which might be true, but I tell you that to illustrate that really, I have a deep and profound love for animals.
            The love lay dormant for a few years. Once I got into college, I didn’t have time to think about pets or animals of any sort. But a little over a year ago, my friend asked me to pet/house sit their dog, Sadi, and it was easy to remember why I love dogs so much. I was having a sad day, and Sadi got up onto the couch with me (I assume that was allowed) and very intuitively placed her paw in my open hand. I didn’t ask for it or prompt it. The dog was just a good. And it made my whole day better.
            Our current apartment is not conducive to any sort of critter, and Jeremy doesn’t have paws, but he has found a way to help me through sad days.
Today, I was having a bad day. He sent me this:

Better than the Liger, The Golden Retriger

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My husband knows me well. Recently, when I experienced a surprisingly severe strain of anxiety, rather than telling me to calm down, he simply pulled up google and searched for “Cute Pugs.”  This is not something he ever would have done before he met me, so I am grateful for this. This led us to a discussion about our future dog. Now I’ve been flexible in the past, and willing to get any sort of dog minus any sort of dog with curly hair or a whiney face. But we have been mulling over the idea of a golden retriever eventually, and I have say, I’m warming to it.

So when we googled Golden Retrievers, THIS popped up!

Apparently it’s all the rage in China to dye your dog to look like another animal. I think this looks legit! But I have to wonder if this is dog abuse, or dog awesomeifcation.

This however, there is no question:

It’s called the Teenage Mutant Ninja Poodle. 
That poor, poor animal. But a Golden Retriger…. That could work for me.