Instructions on Life from a rescue named Maisie
It was her eyes that first pulled me in, Maisie’s big, searching, liquid gold, Egyptian princess, smoky, kohl-lined eyes. She looked up at me, looked straight into my broken heart and held on tight, didn’t let go. She still hasn’t. She has a fantastic, cascading tail; she has disheveled, raggedy ears that look like an …
My husband and I are getting ready to leave the house to go to a concert in Iowa City. Since this means a two and a half hour round trip on top of the concert itself, we will be gone for the bulk of the evening. It is the longest we have left Maisie on …
Maisie and I are at the park with Will and his dog Sonya and we are reintroducing them after a week or two hiatus. Sonya, a four year old rescued blue heeler mix, is the elder stateswoman, a role model if you will, and she is unimpressed by Maisie’s barking. Will is down on one …
I’m sitting on the sidewalk, holding little Maisie, and I can feel her heart damn near about to burst out of her chest, her panting short and clipped and agitated, her tongue (impossibly long for her tiny snout) dangling anxiously to the side. I am sitting on the concrete sidewalk, the March sun weak, all …
Maisie is resting beside me, her front paws and chin in my lap, her hind legs curled under her, with her tiny body pressed up to my legs. There is a fire in the wood stove and we are sitting on a brand new, whipped-cream colored sheepskin pelt, a decadent welcome home gift we have …
Barks at Strangers 