Love and Moon PIes

I found this photo attached to an old e-mail. The subject line said: "Uh...I got a dog".

There should've been a big "D" right before that "Uh" part. Check out Baby Giraffe there in his glory days.


Warning: What follows is icky sweet, like deep-fried Moon Pies. I'd offer you a glass of milk if I could.

Dear Stella:

I love it when you lie upside down and your lips fall open.

I love that you can fall asleep while someone is grinding your toenails off.

I love it when we pass by Big Mean Dog's house and you don't bark back.

I love it when you sit at the crosswalk and then when all the cars stop, you take the leash in your teeth and try to trot me across the street.

I love it when I stop the car and you step up onto the console long enough to lean your head against my head.

You make it easy to forget that mouthful-of-shit feeling I get sometimes.

I love that when we go out in the morning, you hesitate at the door to let the cat go first and I love how when she rubs against your legs it makes you shiver a little bit.

I love the look on your face when we're out walking and I pull out your tug toy.

I love that four days a week we come home soaking wet or covered in mud or both.

I love how you race from side to side at the creek - right before you run out in the water. It's like you're building up your nerve.

I love that metaphorically speaking, I do exactly the same thing.

I love knowing that when the Devil is asleep, your people are my people.

I had a dream we lived in Mexico. Remind me to get a Tetanus shot before we go.