The Laws of Paws and My Faux Pas

And she was beautiful, licking the years from my face and thankful I allowed such nonsense. For her, it was such nonsense that gifted her with more time. That rear-scratching against post and fence as the moon eclipsed another of her hours, until, I too, knowing we were alone in the dark, scratched my own rear on the fence. And I laughed while she barked, looking at me with a face that fit her name, clumsy as she was for 13 years. I named her Grace and she named me Lucky (to have her). To her chagrin she slept mere feet away instead of between us, but I made it up to her with endless belly-loving and even when I think of her now, I scratch my bum along the fence and laugh, then cry, and I could care less about my audience.