Introduce Fern

Most dogs only dream of the adventures I've had in my short life, and some dogs aren't even creative enough to do that. The twitching feet and muffled barks of their REM cycles may not extend past the squirrel chase. I love a good squirrel chase as well as the next dog, but I've seen more. Fact: I ran away and lived on my own for ten days. I passed through highways and canals, and crossed intersections and woods. Kirsten will confirm all of this, although she frequently tells me I exaggerate and add my own details whenever I tell stories about my adventures. Maybe I do get the real events mixed up a little with my dreams, but one can't blame one after a larger than life experience if she's a little hazy on the details here and there. The framework of my story is sound. At its truest it's enough to speed up your pace and draw in your breath; you'll laugh and cry and come away with graditude for a nice warm couch and someone to snuggle up with. I came away more grateful for many things: for food, for safety, for love, and for my back legs. I'm afraid they got the rough end of the adventure when they got hit by a car. Kirsten says I'll be surprised by how much they heal if I wait quietly. I don't want to wait quietly. I want to chase squirrels, herd sheep, and retrieve sticks again. Still, I am pleased by the little steps, and those are coming more and more frequently. All these things will be another story for another day though. I did tell you I was grateful for food, did I not? It wouldn't do to seem ungrateful at breakfast time, and with that I'll leave you until next time.
Fern