I try to write once a week or so, offering something on Monday mornings. This week, no interesting words came to mind.
So, I thought perhaps you’d like to hear from Gibson. He’s our 13-pound Morkie. He’ll be three years old in a month or so.
He has two eyes, actually, but he needs a haircut.
Gibson has something to tell you.
It’s very important.
You should probably write it down.
Ready?
Here it is:
He loves you very, very much.
You might think this can’t possibly be true, since he’s never met you. Strangely, this is not relevant. Since the day he arrived, he has greeted each person the same, even if they’re just walking by him on the sidewalk.
First, he crouches down as low as he can get. So as not to appear threatening, I presume.
Second, he wiggles his rear end joyfully, which is different than wagging his tail, which, by the way, is also happening. It’s a lot of motion. Eventually it spreads into a full-on, whole-body shaking of anticipation, for he and you are about to become besties. The excitement is nearly overwhelming.
“oh my goodness, it’s happening, this is happening!”
And when you finally notice - I say “finally” because when he initially got down low, you were a block and a half away, and it took you a bit to notice - so when you finally do, when you give even the tiniest flicker of a glance in his direction, he gazes deeply into your soul, his big, brown eyes unmistakable in their message:
“Hi. I love you SO MUCH. … Also, what’s your name?”
And that’s it. You’ve been captured. You are loved, whether you want to be or not.
Also, he wants to know if you might like to join him in a rousing game of shove-your-face-into-the-snow.
It’s really fun.
You’ll love it.