Stella and I have settled into a routine that cracks me up. Every day, I take her out for a good dose of exercise. We run. We laugh. We dig in the dirt. And after we return home, Stella sits in her window. A few minutes later, she hops down onto the sofa and rubs herself on the cushions like a lunatic. She knocks over the pillows. She knocks over the blankets. She turns herself upside down and makes crazy voices. She always stops to stare right into my eyes while her static-y ear hairs stick straight out. And then, she cozies up in the corner of another sofa to take a nice, long nap with her head on a pillow. But this day, she tucked the pillow under her chin and found a way to relax while sitting up. It was one of the cutest things she’s ever done (there are a lot of them).
And then, a few days later, on the day of the beautiful sunset, Stella was as mesmerized with the sky as I was. When we weren’t outside, she was staring out the window in awe. The pink light that flooded the apartment illuminated her furry silhouette and felt like magic. Pink, cotton candy magic.
And then, a few days later, on the windiest day of the year, Stella cried and gave kisses to celebrate her happy pack. And the fact that her humans love her as much as they love each other.