My Reason for Writing (And Not Writing)

This post is dedicated to Murphy, a comforting and calm four-legged friend who hung out at the Webster house from June 28, 1998 until October 6, 2010.

The day before Mack came into my life, I had a blow out fight with my boyfriend about how much I DID NOT want a dog. The money! The time! The responsibility! Not to mention dog hair, dog farts and dog poop. Gross.

Fast forward two months…. I’m buying Mack chew toys left & right. I’m missing him during the day. I’m letting this slobbery, slightly stinky creature sleep in my bed. I’m waking up at 5 AM to give him a solid walk. I’m taking him to doggie daycare and wondering if he’s getting along with the other dogs.

I’m taking Mack to training class at the humane society, but as it turns out, he has a few lessons for me as well. Mack reminds me that a good walk can clear your head. That running down the street at full force feels pretty good. That I’m still allowed to laugh and play, even though I’m an “adult” now. Mack reminds me of how simple life could be, if I ate the right amount of food, exercised enough and rested when I needed to. Mack has taught me the value of loyalty and that it’s only polite to wait at the door so you can jump into your roommate’s arms when they walk through the door. The money, time and slight gross-factor of having a dog don’t matter to me anymore, because Mack is a constant reminder to appreciate each moment.

Now, if only Mack could teach me how he convinced some strangers that they would serve him food, cover his medical expenses, dote upon him like a newborn child, let him live rent-free in their house, for his entire life while he mostly layed around, napped or looked out the window during the day….

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