I’ve Always Had a Dog
I don’t quite recall how old I was when I got my first dog. Perhaps 6 or 7. I don’t know what had possessed me at such a young age to want to own such a creature. I suppose I was influenced by some movie or perhaps a friend had one. Who knows. Still, I remember praying for one every evening for what seemed like years. Then, one day, it happened. The neighbor across the street from my friends house had a whole litter of puppies. I’m very thankful for my mother. Perhaps she doesn’t know it, but she’s one of the most perfect humans this world has ever produced. Kind, caring, self-sacrificing, but still human enough to relate to. Still able to keep your feet grounded. I’ve probably learned the most from my mom. One of the things she taught me was to be kind whenever one can. We went across the street, picked out the cutest puppy, and brought him home. He was a Beagle/Dachshund mix, and had, as we later discovered, inherited the worst of both breeds. Mom paid for her kindness that day. She