I have always felt an affinity for dogs. As a little girl I used to beg my mother to feed me from a dish on the floor. I would pick a dog to be for the day. I could be a cocker spaniel, a sheltie or a pug. My name would be Holly or Ramsey or Kirby. l would crawl around on the rug near my mother when she would sit to read. I would turn around a few times and settle at her feet with a sigh. Sometimes I would ask her to tie me up in the backyard which I don't remember her ever doing. I think there was only so far she would go along with my fantasy.
When I was 7 years old she and my father decided to get me off the floor that they would get me my own dog. We went to the city pound and chose a tiny puppy who was white with brown spots. I would hold him in my lap and scratch his stomach. I loved to just sit and watch him walk and sniff and pounce on little bugs. He had an incredibly long tongue which he used to lick my entire face. There was nothing about him I did not love.
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