hiking without happy meals; a modern paradigm chronicling the struggles, pitfalls,
& successes of life, running, writing, urban farming,
& home schooling in these crazy modern days.
Life is our classroom.
I know this is going to cause a few grumbles from the Mercy Dog fans. And Ginger, the dog formerly know as Mercy, she is cute as shit, and sweet, and wonderful but I don't love her the way a dog deserves to be loved.
In fact every time I look at her it beaks my hearts for what I don't have, for who isn't here beside me.
Don't I have a enough of that in my life without having that with a dog?
I have to wonder out loud if this is fair to either of us.
The dog of my dreams is 4 feet under in the corner of my garden and having Ginger here every day looking at me and not being him is killing me slowly.
There is nothing to be done about it.
She lives here with us.
She loves us and most of us love her.
She carries the title of My Dog, at my feet, up my mountains, and sometimes I pick her up and hold her, tell her I love her becasue I want to so badly.
I suppose in some ways I do and in others I just can't.
I honestly thought loving a dog would be something simple like loving a man: effortless & unavoidable.
Turns out it is much more complicated than all that.
Baby Dog, you are going to have a good life here, don't mind me...