To my future dog, I love you already
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Dear Rucks,
Beyond the blur the neon signs have cast, there's a message waiting. I've scribbled constellations across the sky trying to send your ship sailing in the right direction. My direction. In the morning, you will wake to the smell of coffee and wood burning in the stove. My hands will bury themselves in your fur.
In the fall, we'll spend the day walking through leaves and you will run through the trees, unable to see their changing colors but able to feel winter calling out to you from your bones. I will smile the way you do when your heart feels complete. You will run up to me with such intensity you'll knock me down. We'll laugh then, playing in the fallen leaves.
In the evening, we will sit, you there, next to me or at my feet. When the snow comes, we will rejoice, for we will play in it, doing what we were made to do: run. At night, we will sleep outside. You in a bed of hay, me next to you, wrapped in a sleeping bag.
We will cross the North. We will dance beneath the northern sky and watch the greens and pinks of the lights capture our hearts. We will be our own wolf pack.
We will be wordless, but we will be speaking the same language. We will be lost and found and lost again. We will be wholly complete in our understanding of one another. And your existence will take shape and be certain because of my existence and my existence will take shape and be certain because of your existence.
Over time, we will gain friends and our pack will grow. Micah will join us. He'll be strong and you two will be brothers. Slowly, our team will grow. Until we are one of many. A family shaped by mutual interest and adoration.
You too, will grow old. Your muzzle will slowly turn white and you'll get arthritis in your back legs. But don't be afraid because when you can no longer walk, I'll carry you wherever you need to go. And when you are too old to pull, you can sit in the sled and stare up at me or up over across the landscape or your family.
One day, your heart will stop too because we cannot live forever. But I'll carry you wherever you go. I'll carry your heart in my heart. And on those cold January evenings when the wind blows just the right way, I'll swear you are still there, standing in the room beside me or sitting at my feet.
Dear Rucks, I love you already. Please, find your way home.
Beyond the blur the neon signs have cast, there's a message waiting. I've scribbled constellations across the sky trying to send your ship sailing in the right direction. My direction. In the morning, you will wake to the smell of coffee and wood burning in the stove. My hands will bury themselves in your fur.
In the fall, we'll spend the day walking through leaves and you will run through the trees, unable to see their changing colors but able to feel winter calling out to you from your bones. I will smile the way you do when your heart feels complete. You will run up to me with such intensity you'll knock me down. We'll laugh then, playing in the fallen leaves.
In the evening, we will sit, you there, next to me or at my feet. When the snow comes, we will rejoice, for we will play in it, doing what we were made to do: run. At night, we will sleep outside. You in a bed of hay, me next to you, wrapped in a sleeping bag.
We will cross the North. We will dance beneath the northern sky and watch the greens and pinks of the lights capture our hearts. We will be our own wolf pack.
We will be wordless, but we will be speaking the same language. We will be lost and found and lost again. We will be wholly complete in our understanding of one another. And your existence will take shape and be certain because of my existence and my existence will take shape and be certain because of your existence.
Over time, we will gain friends and our pack will grow. Micah will join us. He'll be strong and you two will be brothers. Slowly, our team will grow. Until we are one of many. A family shaped by mutual interest and adoration.
You too, will grow old. Your muzzle will slowly turn white and you'll get arthritis in your back legs. But don't be afraid because when you can no longer walk, I'll carry you wherever you need to go. And when you are too old to pull, you can sit in the sled and stare up at me or up over across the landscape or your family.
One day, your heart will stop too because we cannot live forever. But I'll carry you wherever you go. I'll carry your heart in my heart. And on those cold January evenings when the wind blows just the right way, I'll swear you are still there, standing in the room beside me or sitting at my feet.
Dear Rucks, I love you already. Please, find your way home.
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