Pet Store Pup

"Sam?"


"Yeah?"


"Its your turn to wipe him."


"Ugh...again?"


"Wipe?" I ask.

Wipe the puppy's posterior, my little sister tells me.

"WHY?" I ask. 


"Because, otherwise, it can stay on his fur!"


"But, he's a dog." I remind her.

A puppy, a pooping puppy just weeks old, just a pound heavy, and just getting over a cold. The puppy sneezes. "God bless you!" I hear. The puppy sneezes again and again and again. And I hear, "GOD bless you! Bless you! BLESS you!" I listen with my eyeballs rolling into judgment. But then I remember that she is different from me. She will always be different from me. She is like her pet store puppy and I am like a mutt retrieved from the pound. We both have lots of love to give.




She just costs more.