Last summer was the best summer ever. Why? Mom stayed home with me all day. On those days where Mom usually darted out of the house for work, she spent here with me. No more getting up at the crack of dawn to do our morning walks while the sun was still rising. We both
On Sunday night, Mom was doing her normal routine of getting ready for work the next day. While she packed her lunch and picked out her clothes, I sat in my usual spot on the foot of her bed watching her walk back and forth. I could hear Real Housewives of Atlanta on the TV
I moved in with Mom when I was 8 weeks old. We spent months figuring each other out. While I had to learn the meaning of “no,” “potty,” “sit” and other human words, Mom had to learn the meaning of my barks, pawing on her leg, and all my other pup-isms. For a few months,
There’s this big purple bag that lives in the back of Mom’s closet. It’s got four wheels, a huge zipper, and a handle that goes up and down with the push of a button. I was 6 months old the first time I caught sight of that bag. The moment Mom pulled it out of
It was a cold, dark morning. As I lay snuggled in my bed with the covers pulled over my head, I could hear the wind slamming into the window. Ordinarily, I’d bark at the wind, but on mornings like this I can’t be bothered. Suddenly, I heard Mom’s alarm go off and peaked my head
Our morning walk started like all our other summer walks. The rising sun was gleaming through the trees. The light breeze made the wind chimes jingle. And, the city squirrels hopped from trashcan to tree to balcony gathering the treats they’d found. Mom walked swiftly while she loosely held my leash in her right hand,