I recall the pleading, the maneuvering. Can we get a dog? Please, please, please…. can we? When the kids were old enough, I enlisted them in this pursuit.
I recall the day she said yes… but on one condition. It has to be a small dog.
Huh? A proper dog runs through the field with you when you go hunting. I’m not inclined to run through any fields and I don’t hunt. But you get the picture.
A proper dog lies at your feet in front of a roaring fire while you’re peeling back the pages of the morning rag. Newspapers have long since departing this digitally inclined house and I can’t remember the last time we fired up the fireplace. But you get the picture.
Ok, a small dog is better than no dog. The enlisted kids agreed too. We chose a lhasa apso, but kept the hair short so as to lessen the disappointment of getting a… shutter… small dog.
And now some 12 years later, Shadow has become a fixture here. A member of the family. And he has every bit the spunk of a bigger dog, were there fields to traverse or fires to stoke. But Shadow can also sit across your lap while you’re reading from an iPad and he’ll gleefully jump up into your arms when you’re racing in from a coming storm.
He’s a small dog.
And she was completely, completely right.
Taken with an Olympus EP3. The background was thrown out of focus and vignette added to lessen the distraction.