It all started when I stepped in the fire ant hill, which was quite unlucky of me really. Those darn ants got all in between my toes and my pads and stung me something awful. Mom was very brave to swat a lot of them off with her bare hands (because they can bite her too) before putting me in the sink with soapy water to kill off the rest of the ants.
|Mean and ugly Fire Ant|
But then yesterday I realized – “I’m not ‘pretty’ lucky, I am REALLY lucky”. I watched a show with Dad about how so many dogs end up in shelters because of behavioral problems (I didn’t know being bad could send you to the shelter jail). The show said a lot of dogs end up there because their owners didn’t understand the breed(s) or how to socialize/train them properly from the time they were a pup. This can lead to behavioral issues like incessant barking, aggression, tearing up the house, etc. and the owners just “give up” on the dog. This is terrible since it isn’t even the dogs fault (at least, that’s my opinion)!
Now, before I go to sleep every night I am going to say this (if you're a lucky dog, maybe you can say it every night too):
I will hold in my heart:
gratitude for the pack of which I am part,
love for the humans who care for me,
and knowledge that I am very lucky.
For the dogs that love is lost:
I will keep my four paws crossed
so they know they are not alone
and will someday find a forever home.