Bullet is snoring beside me.
I tried to take him home about 30 minutes ago.
9pm is his curfew.
Instead, he walked me down the driveway so that he could poop right in the middle of the concrete, then he turned around and marched straight to the door and waited for me to catch up.
Until I tried to take him home, he had been sleeping in the garage.
He was pitifully and poutingly waiting on my dad to come home.
He started his day on the porch doing the same. (See picture).
My dad won’t be home for another couple of days.
I am second best. I know it.
And sitting beside this little, fat, white creature who stinks of wet, shedding hair and farts, makes me itch.
I am allergic to him.
Yet I love him.
And I choose to spend time with him.
And I feel grateful that there are people and a God who love and choose to spend time with me when I am at my worst…or my best…or my most natural…and don’t think twice about it when I make them twitch.
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