To Our Newly Rescued German Shepherd…

Oh, Ellie. As I sat here in tears over things I can’t control, and believing that life was getting out of hand…you needed to go potty. You burst through our door, ran down the road and ended at *that* neighbor’s house.

I know you don’t know them. You believe the world is your playground and everyone wants to feed you chicken nuggets. You don’t know that I’ve prayed about the relationship we have with *that * neighbor. You don’t know how cruel they have been, the angry signs they’ve thrown over their fence or the fact that when C was in Iraq they wanted my life to be as difficult as possible.

You don’t know that I’ve felt a lot of conviction about my complete disdain for them. God’s humor is sometimes hard to swallow…because you ran to their house, and they were in their yard with their ENTIRE family.

At first, I turned my car the other way, and thought about driving to the PD without stopping. I thought about waiting until C was off and making him go get you.

Then I realized there was a murder of crows waiting for me…in their yard…and I was going to have to eat some.

And so I went, and you showed out. And I sat in their yard, wishing one of those magic, massive sinkholes would do me a favor. And they gave you a prime rib biscuit.

Thank you for thoroughly embarrassing me in front of *those* neighbors. Perhaps your little escapade will inspire a friendly wave the next time we see them, rather than the scowl we generally share.

I hope you’re tired.

I am.

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