Tuck’s 84 in dog years, still he’s such a little boy.”
His stocking’s hung on high again. He’s asking for a toy.
“A raw hide too would sure be sweet,” he told his sister Tink.
“So get that list to Santa quick! You’ll miss him if you blink.”
While staying on a peaceful farm this weekend, I discovered a new purpose for our dogs.
Or at least one of them.
I decided to call the pup Buddy, as I didn’t know his name.
The owner was busy working, so Buddy stepped right in as the perfect host.
He greeted me with excitement as I drove up the rocky road to the farmhouse then proudly started to show me around the place.
Buddy led me through the fields of corn and soybeans, over to the horses, and then to the vineyards just beyond.
Afterwards, he jumped right into my Subaru ready to give directions through the rolling hills towards the bakery in town to pick up carrot ginger muffins and lavender cookies.
At 70 pounds, Buddy’s 23 times as big as my tiny chi Junie B. who joined me on the trip.
But city girl Junie wasn’t afraid and appeared quite impressed by Buddy’s friendly demeanor, hosting skills, and his life as a farm dog.
I’m thinking she might like to learn to be a farm dog, and hostess, as well.
After all, we do know our dogs are never too old (or too small) to learn a few more new tricks.
My little handsome man Rex and I have our sacred summer Sunday rituals.
Each week we visit the local farmer’s market and then continue the walk down to the lake loaded with our red peppers and sweet potatoes.
Once there here we might watch the sailboats for a while or take part in a church service along the shoreline.
Every week the denomination changes.
But Rex likes them all, though I think he prefers those peaceful programs with plenty of music.
I swear I see him break into a smile each time he hears ‘Amazing Grace’.
And I always see that same smile when I buy Rex our mint chocolate chip kids crunch cone afterwards, though today he went straight for the ice cream that was supposed to be for me!!
But as there was talk about forgiveness in the sermon I, of course, instantly forgave him.
After all, I’m no little saint either.