“I talk to him when I’m lonesome like, and I’m sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose against my tailored clothes, but I never say naught threat. For the good Lord knows I can buy new clothes, but never a friend like that.” ~
He was a large dog who thought he was a small dog. He always tried to curl himself up in your lap or to wedge himself into small spaces. He used to climb up on the top of the living room couch and stretch out to bask in the sun. Thinking about it, I’m not sure Flick thought he was a small dog. I think maybe he thought he was a cat.
That sounds a lot like my dog and my friend, Flick, and what I took from being with him. Some day he and I will wade in the river again.