The Good Dog Chronicles
Gizmo comes bounding from the kitchen to the living room, ears flapping, front paws raised high, eyes which always look like Elizabeth Taylor’s make up artist applied eye liner to them bright, his lower teeth jutting out in a signature Shih Tzu manner (more of that later). He leaps to our thighs, holding on with his floppy, furry front legs as if he is hugging us after we have returned from a long and dangerous trip when actually we have just stumbled out of the bedroom after a night’s sleep.
His greeting is joy unbounded, love without limits, an energetic celebration of our lives intertwined with his. And it happens virtually any time we have been out of his sight for more than five minutes.
Gizmo’s joyous, leaping, licking celebration of our presence is far more energetic than I get from some of our children, most of our friends and all Republicans.