The Kids vs. The Dog
I remember the olden days when my children would cry and carry on when I left the house to go out. “Don’t go Mommy! Don’t go!” And when they would rejoice at my return, running to the door to smother me with kisses….even if I had only gone downstairs to get the mail.
But alas, they are only memories. Now, when I leave, I’m lucky if they look up from their book, or – let’s be honest here – one of their many screens. Instead of “Don’t go Mommy.” I get something that’s a cross between a grunt and a goodbye. Kind of a good-grunt. When I return, I wander around the apartment until I find someone. “Um, hello?” I say. Instead of kisses I get…well, I get nothin’.
That’s what dogs are for.
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