Sweet on Brownie

I'm in love with a dog named Brownie. She's shy and soulful, just like the guys who made me swoon in high school. When we get out to the park, she doesn't zoom back and forth, like Lilli, or immediately attack the first tennis ball she sees, like Bear. She sniffs around cautiously, meticulously, and perks her ears at the sound of passing skateboards. She takes her time. There is a wisdom about her.

Unlike the boys in high school, Brownie's always got one eye on me. She checks in often for long stints of petting and cooing. I sit in the grass -- er... astroturf -- and she nuzzles into my shoulder. It's hot out today, but she nudges closer and closer until I'm trapped between her mass of pit bull muscle and the park fence. We sit together in the shade like that until it's time to go back inside.