Our Cowardly Lion
Eight years ago, my family drove across Michigan to pick up a wriggling ball of fur. When we eagerly piled back into the van and started for home, the howling began. Back home we wearily allowed the new puppy to begin exploring. The howling did not stop that night, or the next. I had never imagined that a noise that loud could come from something so small.
Over time, the howling stopped, housetraining 101 was complete and life was good. During the last few years, our yellow Labrador, Sandy, has become my closest companion. Whenever she gets scared, she convinces herself she is a lap dog. I started calling her my “cowardly lion,” because she is always scared of something. When I am happy, we go for walks and runs or cuddle on the couch. When I am sad, I squeeze the fluff out of her and she will just sit there until I get myself under control – she is an extremely tolerant dog.
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