My dog Lindsay is my best friend. Lindsay is one of those dogs that's so worshipful to her master that it's embarrassing. She follows me at all times, even if it's to the bathroom at 3:00 in the morning. She's never more than ten feet from me. I take her everywhere I go -- to the hardware store, to work, to my friends' houses. Yeah, it can get a tad annoying when I'm trying to mow to lawn or use the snowblower, but I find it endearing.
"Linds" has a best doggy friend. Her name is Jenny. She lives about a half mile away from where I work, and comes over to visit just about every day.
A couple of years ago, a 10-year-old boy came to my office and asked if anybody had seen a shaggy border collie who hadn't home for dinner. Had I seen her? Well, yes, I've seen her every day for the last three years. We're buddies. Good buddies. She's laid down underneath my desk and napped, curled up with Linds, on many occasions.
Last week I twisted up a holiday card for Jenny's family into a Ziplock back and tied it to Jenny's collar. Sadly, there's been no return carrier pigeon dog note. C'est la vie.
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