Willow finds a home

Once upon a time, in the Land of Wisconsin, in the County of Door, a good noble dog we’ll call Goldie gave birth to six puppies. There was Willie and Walter, and WoWo and Wilma, and Wooster and Willow, and they were the sweetest golden puppies you ever did see.

They played and they played, and they ran and they ran, and they lived on a farm where Belgians had worked the land for more than a hundred years.

They started as puppies and grew to be pups on the way to becoming good dogs. Soon it was time to find forever homes and families for them and say goodbye to Goldie. First WoWo went away, and then Walter found a home, and Wooster went west, and Willie went east, and finally one day it was just Wilma and Willow, and a good little girl picked up Wilma and squealed, “She’s so sweet! Let’s take her home.”

“Don’t worry, Willow,” Wilma called out to her sister. “Someone will come for you any day now.”

“I know,” Willow said, but she wasn’t so sure. And the days went by and Willow stayed with Goldie but she missed her little brothers and sisters and felt all alone.

And then one day a tall guy and a short sweet lady came to the farm to look for a pup. The farmer met them at the barn door.

“Well, we have just one 6-week-old pup left and a pile of 4-week-old puppies, you can have your pick,” said the farmer.

“OK, let’s see the older one first,” said the short sweet lady. “We just lost our Onyah, and there’s a hole in our hearts for a puppy to fill just as soon as we can.”

“We even picked out a name for her,” said the tall guy, reaching into the box and picking up the lonely little girl with both hands.

She looked up into his eyes, and he held her gentle as can be, and she snuggled right in and decided right then and there that he was very nice.

And then he asked something that made her all goosebumpy.

“Are you Willow?” he said. “We picked out a name, and we came here to take Willow home.”

How did he know? Oh, how did he know! “Yes, I am Willow,” she would have said, except his gentle hands were putting her to sleep. She curled up in his hands and rested her head on his chest, and she knew she was home. She was home!

“Here,” the tall guy said to the short sweet lady, “I’m pretty sure this is Willow,” and handed her over.

“Oh, aren’t you the cutest puppy ever!” said the short sweet lady with a big smile. “You’re such a pretty girl, sure you are.” And Willow melted in her hands, too.

“Want to look at the 4-week-olds now?” asked the farmer.

“No!” cried the tall guy.

“No!” cried the short sweet lady.

“This is Willow,” said the tall guy.

“Yes, this is Willow,” said the short sweet lady.

How did they know? How did they know! Willow didn’t care, she was just happy she was going home with them.

And she put her paw on the tall guy’s chest and sank back in with a soft yawn, and somehow she knew she was going to live happily ever after.

Published by WarrenBluhm

Wordsmith and podcaster, Warren is a reporter, editor and storyteller who lives near the shores of Green Bay with his wife, two golden retrievers, Dejah and Summer, and Blackberry, an insistent cat. Author of Echoes of Freedom Past, Full, Refuse to be Afraid, Gladness is Infectious, 24 flashes, How to Play a Blue Guitar, Myke Phoenix: The Complete Novelettes, A Bridge at Crossroads, The Imaginary Bomb, A Scream of Consciousness, and The Imaginary Revolution.

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