unsplash.comThere’s been something on my mind for a long time now and it’s really starting to become a burden. I’ve spent many long and sleepless nights tossing and turning in my bed, wondering what I would say to you if I ever had the chance. I know that you will probably never be able to…
A few weeks ago I was witness to a death. Ozark was twelve and the tumor was not allowing him to digest food; he was starving to death.
He was not even my dog. I’d met him when I started babysitting for a friend when she had her baby. Ozark was about two then, I guess.
Fast forward a year or two and I found myself living in their studio apartment downstairs as a live in nanny. Ozark basically came and went as he pleased. Three years went by and I eventually moved out, but that mistake won’t be discussed.
Even though you weren’t mine, Ozark, I considered you part of my family. You were very much loved and I will miss you. Rest in peace, my friend.
I wasn’t looking for a pomeranian at all and had actually gone to look at the possibility of adopting another of the dogs that were available. The one I was interested in proved too much to handle. I noticed two pomeranians in crates next to one another. One was yapping hysterically, but the other was quietly observing her surroundings. It was love at first glance. I sat down on the ground and asked to take her out. Sassy, as she was known then, came over and cautiously licked my nose. She came home to stay four days later. That was two and a half years ago. That twenty pound ball of fluff saved me as much as
I saved her. And our adventure continues…