By True Places Magazine Staff Writers
When I was a kid we had a couple of dogs, Edisto and Maggie. I thought the new additions were part of a well-orchestrated plan to expand our family. Years later I realized my Dad had not told my Mom about buying Edisto, he just surprised her one afternoon.
After a solid month of Edisto’s constant whining from the backyard, my Mom broke down and picked up a rescue dog, Magnolia (Maggie for short) from the SPCA. They were inseparable—compatible personalities, and large backyard to roam, gave them a happy existence.
At least that’s what I tell myself. In full candor, we didn’t spend much time with them. For many years I harbored an enormous amount of guilt for the neglect. When my wife and I decided to add a couple of dogs to the house (JoJo and Emmett), I swore I would learn from my mistakes.
Turns out I significantly over-corrected. They go with us everywhere—to parks, around town, you name it. During the pandemic they relished the morning walks in the neighborhood. So nowadays they’re staring at the leashes before I finish my first cup of coffee. I’ve slowly trained myself to believe that they are intentionally sitting in any open chair in order to keep it warm for their owners. They do love a nice seat though…throw in a blanket and it’s clearly their happy place.