Saturday, November 4, 2017

my [non-existant] dog

Of all the prayers I know -- and I suspect I know quite a few, assuming I could muster the energy to search them out -- the one I like best for its good nature and practicality is this:
May I become the person my dog thinks I am.
Forty or fifty years of huffing and puffing around spiritual life and, well, that's it.

Now all I need to do is get a dog.

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