Friday, February 17, 2023


 —WHO SAID THAT EVERY WISH WOULD BE HEARD AND ANSWERED, AND WISHED ON THE MORNING STARS?

 

 

Dear Charley,

 

We don’t know each other yet, but here I am, already asking you for a favor, for some advice. (Warning: You’ll have to get used to that, or it’ll be a long haul for both of us.) The thing is, I can’t even explain myself to myself, so how am I supposed to be expected to explain myself to others? A doctor? A relative? A friend I’m only sort of close to? (Warning: You’re going to be the one I’m going to explain my shit to, over and over again, ad nauseam, and it’ll seem like I’m talking to my own nut job self, but I’ll be sharing it all with you, even my secrets, even though you won’t be able to answer back beyond gestures, ankle jumps and an occasional puke or pee on my office floor.)

The one thing you’ll never have to worry about (Pinkie Swear: You can just tap your puppy paw on my curled finger when you get here) is being ignored, unheard, unseen or unloved.

I’ve done a ton of studying about your breed and I know you get a lot of anxiety when you’re left alone, which I do, too. So, I’ll try to take you as many places as I can when I go out and I’ll do my best to not leave you for more than a couple of hours. It’ll be okay, I promise.

I love you, Charley, and I don’t know how it is for you, but to me it feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet you, so please hurry.

 

Yours,

 

Len

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