But What Would Happen To My Dogs?


My dogs are my anchor.

They put up with my moods.

They insist on hiking the foothills every morning at 5:45.

When I think of suicide one will climb on my lap and lick my hand to remind me that I am loved, as only a dog can love.

In the morning they greet this old woman as if she embodies the sun itself.  They don’t know about a failed life, they see a success.  So I guess I can’t fail them since they never fail me.  If I were to put them at risk by my suicide I would betray that bargain I made with them when I got each as a puppy.  I couldn’t guarantee that I would never die but I could say that it wouldn’t be by my own hand.

Maybe thats why God has put such faithful friends in my life. There names are Billy and Boo.

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