THIS IS RILEY. HE’S MY SISTER’S DOG. He’s old, gentle, kind, a wonder.
“He probably lived his whole life outside,” the rescuer who pulled him from an inland shelter says, “there are signs – his ears, his nails, his teeth.”
He landed in the right place though, where his new routine is miles away from his old routine, if there even was one. Now it’s an early morning walk, a delicious breakfast, lots of naps on a comfortable clean dog bed or on the cool wood floor. Inside ~ where everyone who comes by greets him – first; pets him – forever; talks to him – endlessly.
He’s got a lamb, a hedgehog, a rabbit, a duck ~ his new treasures. And he has a ball. It’s a soft plastic ball because his teeth are fragile, but still, a ball. He’s obsessed with it and plays fetch ten times a day or more. It’s his passion and his greatest joy. The anticipation, looking at the ball held high, the rush to get it, the find, the retrieve, and the gift he drops at your feet. This darling senior dog must be told to take a break, lie down in the cool grass. Rest.
I think Riley’s making up for all the years he never got to play.
Lesson learned, Riley.
Thanks, sweet boy.