***A man can do a lot with a dog at his feet.***
Late March 1993 I loaded up my car and I moved to Beverly. Actually, 484 miles north of Beverly, to South Lake Tahoe, California. I simply had to go.
Car loaded up . . . I didn't want to go. I don't know if I cried on my first-ever day of school, but I cried this day. I didn't want to go. My parents, though, did what any good parents would do: They told me to shut up, follow-through with my plans, and make the best of it. You can always come back.
I never came back.
It was my Old-English Sheepdog, Poochie, and I who set out west. A boy and his dog. To get right to my point, I don't know if I ever would have planned such a move if I wasn't going to have a dog in tow. To this day, people are frequently amazed that I moved to California "all by myself."
I didn't move there by myself, I had my dog.
People say that it took balls to move like that. Maybe, but if you have a dog, it's a whole lot easier. You have a constant companion, someone you can bounce your thoughts off of--and they never ignore you or roll their eyes, "knowing" what you're going to say. You can always be silly with a dog, release your inner child at your whim. And sing, oh it's the best thing to sing, sing, sing to a dog. Venture out with your dog, conversation is struck quickly, especially with others who have dogs--though frankly, I'd probably rather talk to your dog than you. When you come home from a day or night of work or play, there's always a party waiting, no matter how long you were gone. You can nurture a dog, sort of like a parent to child. And a dog and its attentiveness help you sleep sound, protecting you, his or her master, like a parent does a child.
So, you see, it didn't take balls, it just took a dog.
Car loaded up . . . I didn't want to go. I don't know if I cried on my first-ever day of school, but I cried this day. I didn't want to go. My parents, though, did what any good parents would do: They told me to shut up, follow-through with my plans, and make the best of it. You can always come back.
I never came back.
It was my Old-English Sheepdog, Poochie, and I who set out west. A boy and his dog. To get right to my point, I don't know if I ever would have planned such a move if I wasn't going to have a dog in tow. To this day, people are frequently amazed that I moved to California "all by myself."
I didn't move there by myself, I had my dog.
People say that it took balls to move like that. Maybe, but if you have a dog, it's a whole lot easier. You have a constant companion, someone you can bounce your thoughts off of--and they never ignore you or roll their eyes, "knowing" what you're going to say. You can always be silly with a dog, release your inner child at your whim. And sing, oh it's the best thing to sing, sing, sing to a dog. Venture out with your dog, conversation is struck quickly, especially with others who have dogs--though frankly, I'd probably rather talk to your dog than you. When you come home from a day or night of work or play, there's always a party waiting, no matter how long you were gone. You can nurture a dog, sort of like a parent to child. And a dog and its attentiveness help you sleep sound, protecting you, his or her master, like a parent does a child.
So, you see, it didn't take balls, it just took a dog.
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