By G. Ackman
Hi. My name is Harry. Sometimes it is “Hurry up Harry” or “Come on Harry.” I don’t move very fast, I know. I just don’t see the point in rushing through life. If you go too quickly, you miss so many wonderful things to see and smell. I don’t see as well as some do since I only have one working eye, but that’s okay. It doesn’t hurt me like it used to. Before, when I was in that mean house and then that noisy place, it burned all the time and always felt like I had something in it that wouldn’t come out. Then the spotted dog came to me in my dreams. He told me that someone was going to come visit me and that he wanted me to go with her. He said that she was still sad that he had to leave and she needed a new best friend. She had been a great mom to him and would be to me too (I didn’t know what that word “mom” meant at the time, but I believed him). He had funny eyes too. His both worked but one was brown and one was bright blue. He said he chose me because we are alike in many ways and it is just what this mom person needed.
Sure enough, a few days later, she walked into the noisy place. The spotted dog, who told me his name was Izzy, whispered in my ear, “That’s her,” so after she sat down on the grass, I walked right up to her and licked her on the nose. I was confused because she left without me. She came back the next day though with another dog named Oscar. I was okay with that. Izzy had already told me about him. He’s got a good heart but can be annoying at times. After a few scuffles, I let him know when to leave me alone. We play together now and I guess I would miss him if he weren’t here. I guess I even love him a little. He’s my brother (but still annoying at times).
I heard horrible stories from other dogs in that noisy place. Some had been so mistreated. Broken bones, shotgun wounds, starvation. I could smell sickness and fear and desperation on them. Just like me, no one loved them. One dog, though, came in telling stories about being loved and always feeling safe and warm and happy. None of us believed him. We thought we were always supposed to be unhappy or hungry or scared or hurt. Now, though, I know what he meant. Now that I have a mom who puts stinging drops in my eyes that make them feel better. A mom who holds and loves me. Those who hurt us are the bane of the world. I wish every dog could have a mom like I do. Thank you, Izzy, for bringing us together. I'll take care of her for you.