I’ve always loved animals, especially dogs and cats. One of the most memorable was Morgan an Irish Setter. Although I loved them all, Morgan was such a delight.
I always tried to prepare anyone who came to visit for the first encounter with this big red, devil may care, seventy-five pound bundle of energy. He would thunder down the stairs, explode through the doorway and send everything in his path sailing across the room. If he got to the visitor before we got hold of his collar, he would jump and pin them against the door while welcoming those he knew with many dog kisses.
Morgan had an independent streak that, at times, was a source of irritation. He would lose himself in the woods, on purpose I know, forcing me to search for him. After an hour of hide and seek, I would spot him casually strolling toward the house. Of course, he chose to ignore me. I had my tricks though. I would entice him home by telling him we were “going in the car,” his favorite activity. Once in the car I had to keep my promise. We’d roll out of the driveway and slowly ride around a few blocks. After that, he would enter the house with no problem.
As loving and devoted as he was, Morgan was a thief. Packs of lifesavers and chewing gum would mysteriously disappear from tables, dressers and occasionally pockets. One day I caught him red-pawed while gorging himself on the six dozen chocolate chip cookies that were cooling on the kitchen table. Another time he ate the top layer of the birthday cake that my friend had cooling on her kitchen table.
I desperately tried to break him of his petty thievery, but I was a pushover, and he knew it. He would escape punishment by gently laying his head on my lap and sheepishly gazing at me with unconditional love reflecting in his soft brown eyes. My heart would melt and he was forgiven.
Morgan behaved like a puppy for most of his life, but despite all of his crazy antics, I adored this delightful, loving colorful character. I always felt his love for me. Why…because he was unconditional Love.
P. S. For cat lovers, I don’t want to ignore the cat in the photo. His name was Sebastian. He was quite special and a very independent cat. He has his own story.
Written for you With Love,
Barbara
I always tried to prepare anyone who came to visit for the first encounter with this big red, devil may care, seventy-five pound bundle of energy. He would thunder down the stairs, explode through the doorway and send everything in his path sailing across the room. If he got to the visitor before we got hold of his collar, he would jump and pin them against the door while welcoming those he knew with many dog kisses.
Morgan had an independent streak that, at times, was a source of irritation. He would lose himself in the woods, on purpose I know, forcing me to search for him. After an hour of hide and seek, I would spot him casually strolling toward the house. Of course, he chose to ignore me. I had my tricks though. I would entice him home by telling him we were “going in the car,” his favorite activity. Once in the car I had to keep my promise. We’d roll out of the driveway and slowly ride around a few blocks. After that, he would enter the house with no problem.
As loving and devoted as he was, Morgan was a thief. Packs of lifesavers and chewing gum would mysteriously disappear from tables, dressers and occasionally pockets. One day I caught him red-pawed while gorging himself on the six dozen chocolate chip cookies that were cooling on the kitchen table. Another time he ate the top layer of the birthday cake that my friend had cooling on her kitchen table.
I desperately tried to break him of his petty thievery, but I was a pushover, and he knew it. He would escape punishment by gently laying his head on my lap and sheepishly gazing at me with unconditional love reflecting in his soft brown eyes. My heart would melt and he was forgiven.
Morgan behaved like a puppy for most of his life, but despite all of his crazy antics, I adored this delightful, loving colorful character. I always felt his love for me. Why…because he was unconditional Love.
P. S. For cat lovers, I don’t want to ignore the cat in the photo. His name was Sebastian. He was quite special and a very independent cat. He has his own story.
Written for you With Love,
Barbara
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