Tug.

Life’s funny.

As if I needed any reminders, last night I was working late and Miss Carol had gone to bed and I’m thinkin’ the dogs are with her ’cause that’s how it works. I feed and walk them and they adore, absolutely adore, Miss Carol. I think it’s a guy thing.

Anyway, I got through doing what I was doin’ and went out to turn off the living room lights and go to bed and there was Tug. Sleeping curved around the fireplace hearth. Waiting on me.

As a cheerleaders love for her quarterbacks winning touchdown pass coursed through me I stood watching Tug and thinking back.

Cutter was our first pick. When we went to the dog lady that day four years ago, it was Cutter that sealed the deal by falling asleep in the crook of my arm while we watched a whole litter of labs roll around and be cute.

It wasn’t until after, when we were back home and Miss Carol decided we needed two puppies that I realized Miss Carol was crazy.

But when we went back to pick up Cutter there was Tug sitting all by himself in the corner of the big crate he and his siblings had grown up in staring at all the empty spaces where they used to be. Wondering where they all went.

And we brought him home and now he waits up for me.

Tug.