Happiness
The pooch park is a brilliant invention. The savage beast can run as he should, amongst his own, unencumbered, and I don’t have to intervene until blood is spilled or the others go home. It’s even better when the kinder, gentler person in my marriage is there, too, as was the case last night. After I enticed a zigzag doggy dash in the open green, and before those of us with two legs flung the Frisbee as though for the first time, I sat on the bench, in the cool of the evening, a book opened to an aptly titled and simply powerful poem.
This post was added on Saturday, April 26, 2008 by Tom Swift at 04:31 and is filed under Dog Days, Reading Material, Rough Drafts.
"Any idiot can face a crisis. It's day to day living that wears you out." -Anton Chekhov
