They look at me in synchronicity and I ask the heavens how I gained such fortunes. Tiny heads and tiny snouts testing the air for the next occurrences. Their eyes were pools of love in the deepest shades of earth and caramel. I let the blessings of the universe wash over me, the patter of paws next to me as I walked into fruition of all life-spheres. They say that all dogs go to heaven, but mine have brought me heaven on Earth.
All sick dogs end up on my porch seeking refuge. I don’t know much about refuge nor do I know how to heal what I did not break and so I call for others to step in with the hopes that sick dogs will go with them. Somehow, sick dogs always end up on my porch.