I had worked at home for about three years when I realized that I never really saw daylight except through the windows. Also, I was talking to myself a lot more than most people would probably find acceptable.
So, I got a puppy and named her Gemma. She weighed all of three pounds but she had Attitude.
No stick was too big.
No look too disdainful.
I adored her.
People said: “Oh look! You’ve gotten yourself a Beanie Baby!”
Now it’s almost nine years later and I still adore her. She still has Attitude and her sweet face hasn’t changed much either, except for some graying around the eyes.
And now I know all my neighbors, and spend hours outside every day in the sun or the rain or the snow, and talk to her (and not to myself) even though she’s gone deaf.
She’s getting old faster than I am, and oh, how that scares me. I don’t travel nearly as much as I used to, because leaving her makes my heart actually hurt. But watching her as she snores at my feet, or barks at a dog on TV, or rolls in something yucky in the grass…that makes my dil go mmmm.