Bucket lists

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For some reason, bucket lists have been on my mind recently.

I don’t have one.

I’ve tried to think of what I might put on that list.

There are things I might like to do, but nothing that would leave me feeling my life is incomplete if they never happen.

I would like to have a well-bred Bernese Mountain dog. The two I have had, just like all the dogs in my life, were rescues, and I wouldn’t trade my time with them for anything. So when the time comes to get another dog, though a purposefully well-bred dog would be delightful, the dog that needs me will find me – whether a puppy or senior dog, rescue or champion, perfect or ‘damaged.’

Most of my dogs have been physically damaged. Hagar has a torn ear flap, Minco had a damaged eye, Duffy came to me at fourteen weeks still bearing the scars from being used as bait in a dog fighting operation. Domino was an escape artist – I was his third or fourth home, after he had escaped a couple of times from the shelter in a neighboring county. The home I thought I had found for him didn’t work out, we know of multiple times he was found loose in his new neighborhood, so I drove overnight to pick him up and bring him home. A home from which he never attempted escape.

Travel might be fun, but I’d rather spend my time at home, with my dogs, reading, listening to the birds, feeling the breeze in my hair, watching the clouds drift by.

Am I missing something not to feel like I’m missing something?

I love my life, as it is, as it might be, as it will be. I’m a very lucky woman.

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