It’s a thousand-mile stare into your soul. We’ve nicknamed her The Scientist for the way she studies the world, with every look a new eureka moment fires up in her mysterious mind. I’m pretty sure she can read me — in fact, I have definite proof that she can and that she will anticipate my own thoughts before I even think them — however, what she does with that information is the true enigma. How many steps ahead of me is she on her secret chessboard? And then, suddenly, none of it really matters as she starts collecting her bottle caps, hiding and seeking them around the house, yelling at them in abandon. Our participation in her game is completely optional, she will just keep going. She’s a creature of distant companionship, lurking around the room, almost like a dark shadow with a piercing gaze — except when she’s not: her fuzzy embrace is the white noise that placates your senses, even if only for a brief instant. And then she’s gone again, perhaps now observing you like your guardian angel — or a PhD student — from an undisclosed location.

The way you slither through the hall. Flicking your tongue out. Wrapping yourself around my arm. I graze my hand down your body. You move into the little sleeve I made for you. “Aww it’s like a little jacket” I smile and take a picture savoring the moment.

I have looked everywhere for someone to teach me what you already know. The pounding of your too-large-for-you paws on the stairs tells me joy is a serious business, The bone, lovingly chewed and then dropped, without preamble, on my still-sleeping head says play won't wait one more second.  Why bow to the tedium when running so hard you fall down laughing is an option. And food? Each little morsel is the best you've ever had and the last you'll ever get.  You don't even mind being cared for.  We're supposed to mind a little bit. Didn't anyone tell you? We're supposed to blush and demur and worry terribly about being an inconvenience.  But you, you know you deserve it. That relishing yawn you give as your coat is brushed to a gloss, You're just shamelessly absorbing compassion like sunshine and sending it right back.   I have tried for years to expand my capacity for love. A million strategies.  Deep breathing is a winner, red wine a close second.  But nothing quite so immediate as the trusting weight of a head on my knee,  Velvet ears and a cold nose that have only ever asked me for one thing, presence.

(Based on a post I saw)

In a magical world With a magic cafe There’s a simple sweet dragon That makes crème brûlée

His bumpy nose twitches His tiny eyes hope That his hard work Will be super dope

The dragon’s name is Stephan He’s the man His sharp ears listen His claws click when he lands

He sneezes fire (Thoroughly well-done) He’s faithful and loyal He’s in it for fun! He cuddles And sighs. He snuggles And tries.

When you’re in town, His food’s delicious So when you meet him Taste talented dishes!

This animal is a little over a year old boy. He feels soft and loves to be pet unless he is in a bad mood or hungry, then he will run away or swat you with his paw. He loves to take naps on blankets. He loves when the sun comes in through the window and he can lay in it on the floor and sun bathe. He sometimes likes to spill his water bowl and then tracks paw prints all over the house. He gets in trouble for jumping up on the kitchen counters and sometimes getting in the sink. His favorite part of the day is when we feed him. My favorite thing he does is he runs to the door when we arrive home. I would describe him as sweet, sour, calm, wild, and any other opposites you can think of, he always acts differently depending on his mood.

I still remember the first time I saw you in the pet store. All the other puppies were yapping and jumping and wagging their tails, but you didn’t join in. Instead, you tumbled. Tumbled all over your little playpen, tumbled over your reproachful brothers and sisters, into my hands when I first tried to pick you up. Somehow, when you didn’t tumble out again, I knew you were the puppy for me.

Raising you was very hard. You were a destructive little klutz of a creature, knocking down almost everything, which made me grateful for the fact that I didn’t have very expensive tastes. You lived every moment of every day to the fullest, and every time I saw you, loud and inquisitive and naughty and just so happy, it made me feel so grateful. Grateful that I’d been blessed with a friend like you.

You were such a slob. Every time I set down a plate of food for you, you would just gobble it right up, leaving a foot-wide perimeter around your bowl. And then, whenever I yelled at you for making a mess, you would whine apologetically, and lick all your spilt food, as though you wanted to help me clean. And I would laugh, and let you tumble into my lap. I never could stay angry with you for long.

And your games? Man oh man, were you a little furball of life and energy! Running here, running there, and yet you never slowed down. The mishaps you suffered would have daunted any dog but you, Robbie. And I’ll always remember you for that.

And that’s why I made the hardest ever decision of my life, twelve years after I saw you. Because I couldn’t stand to see you, weak and drained of energy, not tumbling about anymore. It was probably selfish, but I convinced myself you didn’t want to stay this way either. And so I asked them to give you the easy way out. So that you could, in my memory, forever remain the playful, energetic, tumbling bundle of joy that changed my life all those years ago. But, before I let you go, I had to give you one last treat. And so it was that we went to your favourite park, the day before it was supposed to happen. You tried to have as much fun as you could. For me, I think, more than anything else. And then I took you to your favourite little hill. The one where you and I had the happiest memories together. The one where we would create our last happy memory. You looked at me once, with eyes that knew what was to come, but accepted it. With eyes that wanted to have fun one last time. And then you tumbled.

Soft Loud Sharp Occasionally vibrates Seldom stinky Can be annoying Studies gravity Warm Sweet Semi-jerk

Love

Loyal and protective Some fear you, many love you You’re very often so docile They say so much that isn’t true.

Perfect companion for kids But evildoers beware! Come mess up with me And face my dog if you dare.

Your origin is Germanic But now you’re everywhere One day I’ll adopt one like you Of each other well be taking care.

(My favourite dog. Which?)

Mewing at all hours of the night Baking biscuits oh so right Little lad ran away for four days Don’t know how to make him pay Everyone hates him, call him baseborn He just has a hard time living up to what came heretofore Mewing at all hours of the night Dusk to dawn, hates when the curtains are drawn Very soft little lad, but he’s a trap! Let’s let the little guy take a catnap Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh he’s sleeping

Tick tick tick. As I work at the kitchen counter, I can follow the progress of Sunny across the floor. I smile to myself, amused at how noisy such a quiet creature can be, and rueful that I’ve been negligent in trimming nails.