I don’t just care about boys,

just so you know.

I am not T-Swift, who (I am sure) thinks about other things too,

but can only write about boys.

This is about my dog:

Sadie Sadie Sadie.


We named you after The Beatles Song,

in the car, on the highway, going to the shelter, to pick you up to go home.

You were so small, a skinny puppy with big ears, and a black black coat.

We got you the weekend Ike hit, and spent a full two weeks together, never apart.

Sadie, the best cuddle buddy.

Sadie, who lunges at skateboarders and the mailman.

Sadie, who learned how to jump into the dog pond by watching the other black labs jump.

Sadie, who managed to steal the pumpkin pie one Thanksgiving.

Sadie, who sleeps on her back, belly-up.

Sadie is my dog, and I love her very very much.

Sadie runs, Sadie plays. Sadie lays at my feet as we watch TV.

Sadie hangs out under the table as I eat breakfast.

Sadie loves me, and I love Sadie.


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