Demegoric

There's a women's restroom at work. It has 7 stalls. The following are true statements. Stall 1 and stall 7 are handicapped accessible. Stall 6 has a different toilet paper dispenser that looks better but the pull is harder. Stall 4 and stall 5 have sloping floors. Stall 1 is closest to the door; stall 7 is farthest away. The toilet paper dispenser in stall 7 is impossible to use. Generic rules of etiquette suggest that one avoid using the stall next to an occupied one, if possible. Every day I walk in and have to evaluate the situation, taking all of the above into account. There's no such thing as just going to a stall to do what I came for. Stall 3 is the best, so that's what I go for, unless there's someone in 2 or 4. If that happens then all the calculations begin. It all needs to happen in the space of a few seconds so I don't look creepy. And I'm supposed to get stressed that I'll only have 35 minutes to work 4 of these problems on ...

Calvin hated having his collar off. I think he wasn't used to wearing one before he got to rescue. Whenever I took it off he needed to know where I put it, and he'd keep going to check on it until I put it back on. It's probably silly, but I think it gave him a sense of security and place.

I could wait until Calvin is no longer with me to write about him, but I don’t want to do that. I want to focus on his life, not his passing.  He has had a very full life, worthy of focus. This is a story worth reading if you've ever wondered why people choose to adopt someone else’s rejected leftover dog instead of getting their own shiny new puppy. If you want allegory, you can call it a story of realizing potential, or fresh starts, or redemption, or being seen and understood for who you are. Or it’s just one story about the life of one dog. I don’t know much about Calvin’s early life.  Most of what I know is what he didn't have. He didn't have a house. He didn't have training. He didn't have play dates, or any socialization. He didn't have toys. He didn't have food that was good for him. He didn't have training, or walks, or friends. He was just another cute, fluffy white little puppy that grew up into a large dog, stuck in the backyard when he ...