|Letters to the Editor
To the Editor:
I was talking to a lady in the grocery store about my new rescue dog, Macon. My other rescue dog died a year ago of cancer: melanoma.
I was telling her how I didn’t want to get another dog after Gunner died and how difficult it has been with Macon. Just getting used to his name has been difficult. Took some time to not call him Macon Bacon.
I was telling her I wanted to re-name him Jake. But to me that was fake: Fake Jake: Macon Bacon. I ended up with Macon Jake.
I told her I cried and cried for the first three weeks. There’s a reason why people my age don’t have kids. Macon is a little over a year old. I’m a little over seven decades old. He wants to run. It’s all I can do to walk. But he and I have come to a meeting of the minds. A give-and-take thing. I take him for a long walk every day and then he has to watch Dr. Phil with me.
Here’s the deal folks: you have to wonder what Macon was thinking when he was in a pound for most of his one year life. Sometimes someone would come and get him but then brought him back because of how difficult he was to be around. I almost became one of those people. I had a very hard time. But what could I expect of him? Sit? Stand? Roll over? Speak? No. All he wanted was to be loved, held, petted, kindness. All he wanted was to be chosen.
If you ever wish to fill your life with the love of a pet......visit the chosen.
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