Halloween 2004

The night before was a huge party in the apartment I shared with two friends who I met at community college.  Decorations still everywhere – orange and black and fake spiderwebs camouflaging the real spiderwebs.  When does a busy college student have time to dust cobwebs?

The next day was my American history midterm.  The television was tuned to AMC, volume on low, playing black and white horror movies.  My book open on my lap, a stack of notecards and a package of Halloween Orange Oreos on my right.  To this day, the orange Oreos are just better!  

To my left, a few feet away and keeping a respectable distance, was this guy:

Just a pup, newly adopted and still struggling with health and abandonment issues.  We were both messed-up, broken souls, just starting out and making mistakes.  We had each other.  I took care of him, and in a weird way, he was taking care of me.  That needy little monster taught me selflessness, forgiveness, and sacrifice.

Whenever I lose sight of the meaning of the word “love,” or think that there’s no such thing as love, or become jaded to believe that true, selfless love cannot possibly exist, I remember how I felt looking over at that little puppy, legs tucked underneath his scrawny, emaciated body, still recovering from starvation.  Nose wrapped around to his tail, shaking with a deep inhale and letting out one of those sighs that only sleeping puppies can sigh.  I can feel love.  I can feel love.