I saw a three legged dog today. A three legged golden retriever. This may sound odd, but I bet if you think of the phrase "three-legged dog" the image that leaps to mind is either some sort of Jack Russell terrier or a mutt so ugly its momma had trouble loving it.
Though maybe that's just me with that set of associations.
So this particular dog was not tiny, or a mutt. It was a beautiful purebred golden, the head cheerleader of dog breeds, only with three legs. And damn it, that dog looked happy. Gleeful. Like it had caught a squirrel. Or outstriped a dalmation in a race. Or found a particularly amazing stick. ("Look, I have a stick!" dogs always seem to say when they have a stick, so proud of themselves.)
Three legs, no problems. Love it. Now, if only I could have given that dog a stick...
No comments:
Post a Comment