The family dog, in her last days, no longer pretty or picture-worthy, is still faithful to her calling. Barking hoarsely and un-intimidatingly at moving things on the street. Leaping and then ultimately faltering in her arthritic legs to properly stand guard. Those sad, tired, sagging eyes have witnessed that front door open and slam shut a thousand times as our big family passed through, carrying with us the mundane and the monster joys and sorrows of life. Our lives in black and white to her. Our half-hearted ear scruffs and belly rubs and steak leftovers, never enough. But at least she has her unconventional best friend to cozy up to on rainy days.
A dog's life. Not much different than our own, sometimes. Hoping for a little purpose in the journey and maybe a little attention along the way.
