-22855 Mulholland Hwy. Calabasas, CA 91302-

Calabasas Courier Online

-22855 Mulholland Hwy. Calabasas, CA 91302-

Calabasas Courier Online

-22855 Mulholland Hwy. Calabasas, CA 91302-

Calabasas Courier Online

September

September

My dog and I were never best friends. I considered us close acquintances; we both valued personal space, and we both handled our issues without physically jumping on strangers. I thought that this respect was my dog’s expression of love, yet when I saw my dog jump all over my dad and act as his secondary shadow, I realized that my dog just didn’t like me. As an eight year old, I was now painfully aware of how it felt to be snubbed. So when my dog passed away this summer I wondered why I found myself watching “Marley and Me” so many times I now have the useless talent of being able to quote Owen Wilson.

 

Wiggins first belonged to our neighbors, and became infamous for getting in fights with dogs or any creature that gave him the wrong impression. He would roam our street in his best imitation of a rebellious teen until my dad would show up, where Wiggins would then leap into my dad’s car and the two of them would spend the day together (this was in no way a reflection of how my rebellious phase with my dad went). The two of them kept up their secret affair until the day Wiggins attacked a goat. Although the goat ranked number one in annoying pet sounds, our neighbors took said goat’s side. Before they could “take Wiggins to another home,” child-code for putting him down, Wiggins was adopted into our family. With my dad’s patience, Wiggins proceeded to be the perfect child my parents had hoped for.

 

Through Wiggins, my dad showed me the capability for individuals to be better, if only they are given the chance. My dad’s lectures regarding the speed limit not being a suggestion didn’t stick, but his lessons in the value of second chances had more of an affect. The ideal that people are inherently good remains my most passionate belief, and as I get older I find myself desperately searching for validity to this belief. With the passing of Wiggins, I saw the prime example of my naive belief die away.

 

At Starbucks, upon seeing my disheveled, tear-stained face, the cashier gave me a drink for free. Even sweeter than my Mocha Frappucino was the fact that my inner kid’s optimism gets to keep on living, and through people that also do not slobber on strangers. •

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