To be like Toad
My parents have three dogs, Rowdy, Maci, and Kodi.
Kodi is the cutest. That’s not favoritism – it’s just fact. I mean, look at her happy dog perma-grin:
Her name is Kodi, but mostly we call her Toad. She’s this ridiculous, squatty little Chow mix, with short legs and a barrel chest. She has so much fur, she looks like a tank – but in the summers, my parents have her shaved to keep her cool. And then, she looks like a little pig.
The best thing about Toad is that her tail is always wagging, no matter what. She wags when she sees you, she wags when she’s looking out the window, she wags when she’s all alone in the backyard, she wags when she gets fed, she wags when she’s lying on the living room floor, she wags when she hears voices – even if they’re not talking to her. The only time that she didn’t wag was when she was entered in a tail-wagging contest at the Puppy Parade – then she stood stone still.
The remarkable thing is that Toad has bone spurs on her spine that keep her in a constant state of discomfort. She has trouble sitting from a standing position, or standing from a sitting position. She is stiff and awkward. She is in pain.
But she wags anyway.
I want to be like Toad.
I want to wag anyway – even when nobody’s looking and I’m all alone.