Read Junk Shop: A Dog Memoir Page 11


  "It's me," I barked as I toppled into his shins. I couldn't get any traction on the icy pavement and with only three legs.

  Robyn loomed over us and Corey was apologizing, but they both stilled for a moment.

  "Sophie?"

  I tore my head away and craned toward the voice, and a little whimper might have bubbled through my lips. It was Her. She was older and she had more worries, but it was Her. The child on her hip strained toward me.

  "Oh, Sophie," she said.

  So that was how I came full-circle.

  And a few Very Long days later, I was Home, with He and She and little Lily and The Nanny.

  He had Wheels now, because he doesn't have spare legs like me. And when She brought me home to Him for the last time, we whimpered together, but it was a whimper, not of fear, but of love and lost years. We whimpered with full hearts.

  And now I am useful again. And my job is to open doors, which is funny, don't you think? Did you know they make doors with Levers? And my other jobs are to talk to Him and to wag so that people are not afraid of us. And sometimes we go to physical therapy together.

  Corey and Ashley got a guinea pig named Buster who has an excellent head for business, and they make a Good Living selling Antiques.

  Antiques are different from Stuff. Antiques, it turns out, are Very Expensive Stuff that people really want that they Definitely Don't Need. And the less they need it, the more they are willing to pay.

  So the customers of the Antiques Shop are always happy, and Corey and Ashley and Buster have an Audi.

  ###

  If you've enjoyed this ebook, please consider reviewing it at your favorite online retailer.

  Also by Jennifer Erickson:

  What I Dreamt Last Night

  Down the Throat of the Mountain

 
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