My dog falling asleep in my coat near the cheese. It’s so cute it hurts. Her name is Ashley and she’s been with my mom’s side of the family since I was ten or elevenish. I grew up with her and taught her tricks. I still remember the stink on my fingers of the dog treats I gave to her when she did a good roll or jump. There are loads of memories here.
I kind of realized that I never write much about what life looks like when I’m at my family’s. When I’m at my mom’s my days are filled with this aging floofball. I go to bed quite late, so I’m often in the room while everyone is asleep. Then I can hear her dog dreams or nightmares. Yes, Ashley sometimes barks or gets chased in her dreams. I can’t be sure.
Though she was ‘my dog’ or ‘our dog’ back in the days I still was a resident here, she’s more my mom’s dog by now. I’m careful with saying “my dog” to people I meet when traveling because if they don’t see a dog they might think I abandoned her or did some other cruel thing. As you might have seen before on this blog when I was in Vake Park (Tbilisi, Georgia) and Hatay in Turkey, I love dogs. But I can’t and won’t travel with a dog because it’s too much responsibility. On the one hand that makes me sad, but on the other hand, it’s just important to know what you can and cannot pull off in life.
So I pour all my love for dogs and puppies and other pets when I meet them. It hurts when I see strays and endless breeding. If I ever have a big fortune, I’ll share it with animal welfare organizations.
Remember to spay or neuter your pets; it’s the nicest thing you can do for them.