A Dog and Then Two

 

Shortly after my father died when I was a child, my mother decided my brother should have a dog.  He was a black and white cocker spaniel who my brother named Snuffy.  Snuffy didn’t know that I thought of myself as the “outsider” in the trio left behind by my father’s sudden absence.  He was willing to love me too.  As if I belonged.  

A few years ago, a couple moved into the large condo at the end of my hallway.  Like me, they are up and out early.  Most important, they usually are taking their two cocker spaniels for their morning walk.  These two beauties are not black and white, but everything else about them brings back all of the memories of acceptance that Snuffy gave me when I needed it most.

The couple knows me as the friendly lady who stops to give them a smile and gives the dogs an occasional pat.  The rest remains with me.