August 16, 2019

Dreams took flight — so with puppy I write alone til’ night. Walking beside me, she’s all I got in this fight of write. 3 AM is not the same; but Kali is sound asleep in her crate. Up and at em’ for the day is her break — outside Dekum’s blue where she’s happy to play with you.

Walking beside a rock, she knows what will pop or what not. An instinct for survival, no one ever moves what’s stopped. Dogs don’t have feelings, but we do; and puppies feel them before we do. When sad, they sit still until something worthwhile brews.

Throw it; yeah the rock. See what else it breaks at it’s stop. But don’t blame it – that’s life for people manipulate rocks. Dogs like us walk above the hottest boiling pots. Sleeping with memories of crossing thoughts. Some just watch, others react for it to stop.

But like a rock, a dog won’t think. With hurt feelings, 10 minutes later a treat for emotional repealing. Happy again, but they remember. They know your mood before it timbers.

You see how big she got? My loving furry rock.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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