You Don’t Own a Dog
Some love doesn’t ask. It doesn’t wait. It sits beside you and breathes. The language we use We talk about dogs like property. My dog. Our dog. As if a living being could belong to us. But anyone who has actually lived with a dog knows that word never quite fits. What happens there feels closer to a meeting than an arrangement. A bond that doesn’t explain itself. It just shows up every day and stays. Presence without strategy Humans are careful with love. We negotiate it. We protect it. We keep score. Dogs don’t do that. They don’t calculate whether affection will be returned. They don’t check if today is safe to be open. They don’t hold back in case tomorrow hurts. They are simply there. And that’s unsettling, because it exposes how rarely we are. I don’t expect anyone to pay to read. But if you’d like to support it, gift me a book. ...