As a freshman in high school I read the novel Where the Red Fern Grows, and immediately I had dog fever. I knew that I would love dogs and that they would love me. And I was right. However, it took 13 years to get my first dog, Josie.
Josie was an exceptional dog. When you’d tell her your problems, she’d cock her head as if she understood. Then, she’d remind you that all you really needed was a nice long walk and a little food and all would be right with the world.
Do you remember the ending of Where the Red Fern Grows? It’s the same in all stories about dogs, either fictional or real. The dog dies in the end. And after a very long and happy life, so did she. Even when they are just puppies we know this, but we put it out of our minds and time slips by faster than we ever imagined.
My only regret is that I don’t have one really great photo of her. Sure, I have some snap shots. But every good dog deserves a portrait. The value of the photo only grows with time. Below is a portrait of Mabel, my 15 year old Labrador.
Mabel was the worst puppy ever, but grew into the best dog ever. Now she's 15 (which is like 100 in Lab years) and has slowed down a bit. But she still insists on following me everywhere. You know, as adorable as our puppies are #olddogsrule
