Yes, I'm owned by a dog. I'm suprized I haven't bored you to death about her yet. I'm also suprized that I can't claim her as a dependent on my income taxes, but that's another story.
Pony Trekker is my pride & and joy. She's the most beautiful dog in the universe. So imagine my horror when, during our walk this morning, she managed to get a chicken bone caught in her throat.
Here, we backtrack. I was raised a Born-Again Protestant Christian. I gave it up about 1988 and have been a solitary seeker on the spiritual path ever since. Before Pony was even conceived, I asked the Goddess Hecate to find the perfect dog for me. Hecate is The Distant One Who, I'm convinced, wears a T-shirt that says, "Love me, Love my dog." Pony is consecrated to her Patroness.
Now, I've tried to be as grateful to Hecate as I can. I've tried to be a good little Seeker, being open minded to all faces of Diety.
But guess what I thought when Pony started to choke?
Yup, that's right--"Oh, God, help my puppy!"
Pony managed to dislodge the bone and is none the worse for wear.
That being said, I'm not taking any chances. I'm saying prayers of thanks to Hecate, Jesus, Allah, St Francis, Raven, Ra, Ghandi, the local faeries , the constellation Sirius, EVERYBODY.
Pony, in contrast, is currently ripping up a tennis ball.
Same thing, I guess.