I know I don’t owe any explanation of my absence to the err, 3 people or so that read this blog, and maybe that’s why I feel compelled to even mention it.  I know no one feels a loss when I don’t post.  It doesn’t bother me.  The fact that I have even a few readers has been a lovely surprise to me and I genuinely like the people I’ve met through My Cool Dog.  But I don’t blog to entertain.  I made this page for the same reason I have Instagram, and flickr, and why I spent two weeks worth of pay on a digital camera.  Because I love my dog.  Because the saddest and greatest injustice in this world is that dogs don’t live as long as people so I’m going latch onto every miniscule memory I can while I have her here with me.  Also because putting words to our life together, and capturing snapshots of our day to day, anchors me to the present- makes me stop for a second and feel and think.

Elsa is not my pet.  I know and respect her.  I pay attention to her needs and she understands mine.  I really enjoy her.    I see this unbridled love of dog in others too, like Sara and KB.  Neither of these women know who I am but I consider them my kin, cut from the same cloth as myself.  Dogs make sense to us.  Probably more than humans do.  But I accept that to most pet owners, dogs are just animals with whom they share their house, not really a family member at all.  I feel as long as I come here now and then to vent, or wonder, or laugh out loud at how awesome my dog is, I’ll never allow myself to acknowledge Elsa as anything other than the great lottery ticket that the Universe awarded me.