Spirit Dogs

My dog’s got spunk.

I rarely see Maddie feel sorry for herself.

And she’ll bust any pity parties I hold in no time.

She’ll just look up at me with those big brown eyes, button nose, and give me her widest smile.

Then she’ll race over with her front legs in record time to greet me.

Her expression seems to say, “So what if I’m lame. Life goes on.”

Maddie reminded me of that fact as I slowly entered the house after work, nursing a sore leg from lifting heavy boxes earlier in the week.

Maddie, of course, was right.

A little pain medication and I’m now back to packing boxes tonight for our move next month.

Once we do move Maddie will no longer have to try and tackle steep hills in back to keep up with her brother Tucker, the terrier.

Instead we’ll be blessed with a flat, and fenced, back yard.

Maddie can’t wait to start digging her 12 signature holes in that green grass.

Before Maddie, I once owned a corgi named Maggie.

Maggie had a different disability that also resulted in her going lame. She too was a very happy girl.

“You ought to put that lame corgi down,” a dog walking neighbor yelled out to Maggie and I one night.

I gave the woman a limp ‘neighborly’ wave and bit my tongue.

I knew much better.

Maggie was a dog full of spirit.

And so is my girl Maddie.

She’ll tell me one day when the joy is gone, just like Maggie finally did.

For now corgi Maddie proudly remains my muse.

She’s looking up at me now, as if to say, “Now get back to packing.”

“Hey, and don’t forget those raw hides!”

I guess there’s nothing like a spirited corgi cheerleader to help you get your move on.

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