Reading my Heart
Shortly after getting home from our trip, I received some sad news. I sat and cried. I’m not so much a crier (although there’s been evidence on this blog to prove the contrary), so I needed a moment to pull myself together. It was then when I saw Polo sit at my feet and rest his head against my legs.
He darted in from another room, almost as if he had this innate ability to feel me. And right about now I sound like a crazy old lady who collects lace doilies, but I’m not. Promise. I scooped him up and squeezed him tight. Then picked up one of my many doilies nearby and dried my tears.
I kid, I kid.
In the hurriedness of life, pain causes a person to stop and reflect. During this time, it’s nice to have a friend who’s willing to run from another room and make my day a little better.
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