dog

And Then Along Came Meg

​In case it isn’t obvious, my hands are full. My kids, my home, my running, I have plenty to do.  I didn’t really need anything else on my plate. But I wanted a puppy.  For selfish reasons, really. Because I adore Abbi, and her companionship is integral to my day. Though she’s still young, I have had a creeping fear of losing her and of the horrible void that would leave. Her mortality paralyzed me with fear. I knew that I couldn’t abide the void she would eventually leave. 

So, along came Meg. Meg is a feisty, naughty, stubborn dachshund. And she’s perfectly wonderful. 

The joy I feel when I pick her up and she wiggles all over and snuffles at me, well, it’s just about as wonderful as the joy I feel when I remove Abbi’s leash and watch in awe as she bounds off into the woods, with more grace and beauty than my heart can hold. 

I never knew I was a dog person. We had cats growing up, and I loved them too, so I assumed that I wasn’t a dog person because I was a cat person. As an adult we don’t have cats because of allergies, and come to find out, I’m a dog person too. 

And now, with my two sweet, and totally opposite dogs filling my home and heart, I recognize what a void I had in my life without Meg.  And now that void is overflowing with joy. 

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