A Letter to B

I'm sorry for any time you feel alone.

I'm sorry for every time you're dreaming of ball-chasing and you're on the couch instead. 

I'm sorry for not letting you chew rawhides around-the-clock.

I'm sorry for making you live indoors.

I'm sorry for adopting you in 2, and reducing you to a 1-parent household.

I'm sorry I haven't written a post in more than two months. I've been obsessed with myself.

I'm so happy you have the disposition you have.

I'm so happy when I wake up and remember you exist!

I'm so happy every single time I walk through the door and find you there.

I'm so happy you trust me.

I'm so grateful to every friend or family member that has babysat you.

I'm so grateful to Jimmy, who runs you with care.

I'm so grateful for a job that provides me with the ability to provide for you.

I'm so grateful for the other dog-mothers I've met because of you.

I'm so grateful for the way you care about me.

I'm so grateful Tennessee shipped you to Chicago, to Anti-Cruelty, and that life found me there when you were.

Women tell me, "When you have a baby, they replace the dog. They just do. The love not only gets transferred, but much bigger."

B -- I don't believe them.

My relationship with you is thus far the most defining of my life. Caring for you is essential to my heart. Buying you things helps. Feeding you, exhibition. Petting you, the payoff.

I get it. I get it. I get it.

I finally get L O V E.