Here’s Brodie in our backyard, happily chewing on his favorite stick. He looks pretty settled in, doesn’t he?
Well, let’s see. He separated my favorite tree from its roots about six inches above the soil and then ran around the yard with its corpse in his mouth, taunting me. He bit a chunk of plaster out of the wall beside our powder room because I had the nerve to close the door when he wanted to follow me in there. He mangled my husband’s reading glasses. He stripped the cover off the out-of-print script for Sunday in the Park with George that my sister-in-law had loaned me with the admonition to treat it like gold.
If Marley and Me hadn’t already been written, I could easily do so.
Do I love Brodie anyway? You betcha! He’s the best dog in the world!
