My parents say my first word was ‘Arrow’, the name of our little white basset hound. I take shameful pride in knowing I first spoke to my doggy, whose lips pulled back in a smile whenever she panted, whose tail, instead of wagging back and forth, made great arching circles. Daddy said one day she would lift off with that helicopter tail and fly on up to heaven. I suppose he was subtly preparing us for when her time came. And when it did, we accepted it well, knowing that our little Arrow was surely even more angelic in Heaven.
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