The two of us wrestled a long time this morning. Intense and frenetic, the way dogs do after several days of rain. Then I lay down, a flat-on-the–floor dog, worn out. He went over and lap, lap, lapped at the water, and then came and stood over me, his snout dripping wet. I let him have his moment of mock triumph, and he let me lick the water from his chin.
I want you to meet him. My best friend., my co-dog, my littermate-after-the-fact. He’s thirteen pounds to my eighty-five, with butterfly ears and an in-your-face manner.
He’s my brother. My responsibility. My friend.
This is Gadget.