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Paws in Paradise

 People here reveal themselves through their dogs.


I do this all the time. When I meet someone, I say, "Salvy is friendly, but just a little jumpy." And I'm so obviously talking about myself. I have some social anxiety; pardon the weird, nervous laugh.

Down the road, a family is at war with several neighbors. The family in question wants a wall along the road -- and costs should be shared within the community. Others are resisting. When I see the family in question, there is new wariness, and the wariness gets foisted on the dog: "Our Shep is asking for a perimeter-row of small trees. He'll still see the neighbors, obviously, through the trees, but the contact will be a bit less intense...."

A woman moves into the abandoned house next-door and presents her dog, Anna, to me. "Anna can be challenging....She isn't sure if she will like it here...."

Finally, my husband exists in a world of sunshine and rainbows; his world is like the inner landscape of Maria von Trapp. So, when he, Marc, sends a Salvy photo to me, the photo almost always centers on Salvy's blooming social life. "Salvy made a friend! Here he is with.....Benito!"

I send back a little heart. I'm so very, very happy for Salvy.

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