Shaker reminds me that what I adore the absolute most about dogs is how well they love us. This dog is so ecstatic that we’re home.
Our Golden boy races circles around us, looking at us watch him. The balanced symmetry of effortless, joyous strides causes us to admire the Shaker, but soon we settle into some long overdue petting.
Sometimes I think I treat love like a finite thing, as if people only had so much love to go around, my Golden teaches me to love with abandon; imagine that.
For another month I’ve been wrapped up in all things Puerto Rican and canine. So many wonderful dogs I know as individuals will face death if we don’t get a sterilization plan in place pronto.
In my opinion the canine street society of dogs mirrors our history without tools and the advantages of the larger prefrontal cortex. Their verbal language becomes more apparent and possibly a little better understood each time I live with these dogs. My heart, soul and imagination are with them.
Shaker cares not a sniff about this; we’re home.
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