Roots

We all come from somewhere, the products of our families, friends, choices and experiences.

 I was thinking about my dog today. He stayed with me through most of high school. I named the poor little fellow after a dog from a movie. My brothers and sisters wanted to keep Peach, the one that looked like she had some golden retriever in her. But as I was the youngest my parents let me choose, and I've always favored the underdogs. 

He was so good. His walk reminded me of a choochoo train and he was so patient and fun. He followed us around, and joined in on adventures. He was good herding chickens, and hunting gophers, and raising kittens. They would curl up right next to him like he was their own mother. He was so timid. I watched a newly captured wild kitten scratch him right on the nose once, and he just took a couple steps back. But no big dog or person who was under suspicion was big enough to make him back down.

 Once, after a good solid white washing from my brothers he came up and licked the tears off my face till it tickled so much I stopped crying and just laughed. 

He just popped in my head today. One more wonderful thing in life to be grateful for.