Clean, clean, eyes bright, and happy |
He prances, either in pride or because he has been penned up for a while. When he goes out to the garden, he bounces and his hair rises and falls in the wind.
Grace exclaims, "Don't you look beautiful," when she first sees him. I agree and, as he rushes from Grace to me and back again, the three of us celebrate doggie beauty.
“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace." Milan Kundera
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