„My Dog loves me“ – Really?

„My dog loves me“, optionally also any other so-called pet, „Loyal and affectionate and unbreakable“ it says. But is that really the case?

My dogs are with me. They are there. They are always there. I can’t imagine it any other way. Was there life without her? Of course, it has, but what do I know about it. It seems to me that it would never have been any different because their presence enriches my life. Wordless, but always turned to. I took responsibility when I brought her into my home and my life. It wasn’t their choice. They didn’t have to decide anything, they had to let it happen.


The real Corona-Victims

Corinna was the most wonderful dog you can imagine. She was four months old when she joined the Maier family, consisting of a father, mother and two children. „We’re getting a dog now,“ said the father when he was put on short-time work because of Corona, „Then we have a reason to go out and it’s not that bland.“ The children were enthusiastic because they also had home schooling and the dog would be a great compensation for the lack of contact with their friends. Only the mother used a weak veto. „At some point this strange corona will be over and you will go back to the company and you to school. In the afternoon you will want to meet your friends. Then you will want to go on vacation again and what will happen to the dog,“ she said, but until then it would still take a lot of time, everything would work out, said the rest of the family.


Until the End

You lie in your favorite spot in the sun. You like the warmth. I sit with you and stroke you. Your breathing is steady, but it can be heard that you cannot breathe freely. If you lie still, everything is fine. You closed your eyes and I caress you, feel the warmth of your body and the calm that emanates from you. Stroking is good for your circulation, I’ve read. May be. A positive side effect, because above all it connects. We are just there. Before, when you were younger, you came and asked for it, the petting. Now you are old, you lie more than you used to and when I come to you to stroke you, it’s good. The hair has turned white and everything is a little more leisurely than before. It seems to me as if it was only yesterday that you came to us as a small, lively puppy. More than ten years have now passed. Where has the time gone?