Headfirst

I didn’t want the apricot toy poodle, but Dad insisted. I thought she would spend her days on a satin pillow, muzzle in the air, grooming her well-manicured curls. But she was a real puppy, and lost no time tugging the ribbon loose from her ear and clawing the baby blanket we’d brought her home in. Still, it wasn’t until she almost fell into her water dish because her head was too heavy that I saw why Dad picked her: She’d teach me how not to fall in, no matter how deep the water, or how long he’d been gone. 

Cheryl Snell