I love Other People’s Dogs

 

Leaving this morning on a short trip I caught a glimpse of my neighbor’s dog.  I waved, looked at the dog, smiled and he smiled back.  His name is Venice and a golden retriever, I never understood why an orange dog is called golden but he is.

I love other people’s dogs.  I can pet them, rub them behind their ears, sometimes give them treats but always give them love.  Dog is God spelled backward and their unconditional love is beyond compare.

I had a dog once and her name was Precious.  She was a twelve-pound Bichon Frise and the love of my life.  She lived fourteen years and my daughter often said I loved the dog more than her and during the teen years that surely was possible.

Precious was the cutest thing you ever wanted to see.  This little white ball of fur and I were inseparable. I always felt bad when I had to leave her. She would hide under the bed whenever the suitcases came out.  I knew life without me was difficult for her.

Which brings me to why I haven’t gotten another dog.  I simply love to travel and know I would never travel if I had a dog.  I am destined to continue loving other people’s dogs and traveling.

Caveat:  Found out Venice is an Irish Setter.  Need a fact checker here.  🙂

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