Hey there, Summer-Sum-Sum. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal to you that I changed my Facebook profile picture yesterday, but you have no idea. It’s just that when Red — that’s what I call your mom on the blog — showed me the picture of us the other day, I could see that we have finally made that connection, me and you, my little pal.
I’ve told you about my friend who lived here before you did, Willow The Best Dog There Was™, and how we were friends as close as friends can be, and how I’ll probably never have a puppy girl as special as her ever again, and how I try not to compare you with her because that’s not fair to you, and just because we can’t be as close as Will and I were, that doesn’t mean we can’t have our own thing.
I mean, I know you’re not the same dog. For instance, I could go outside with Willow and she would stick by me, and if we got separated all I had to do is call, “Willow, come,” and she’d look up and come running to me, whereas if I call “Summer, come,” you don’t look up and you definitely don’t come. On a good day you might look up and wonder what I’m yelling about.
So nope, you’re not Willow, you are definitely a different dog.
But I look at the expression on my face in this picture, and I look at the expression on your face, and what do you know, I recognize those looks. We are pals, aren’t we? We’re in this thing together, aren’t we? I’m sorry that I still miss your predecessor, who’s been gone almost two years now, but I’m finally understanding that you’re pretty special in your own way.
So that’s why I made a big deal out of taking down the old picture of Will and me and posted the new picture of you and me, Summer. When they play “Mr. Bojangles” and get to the part where the dog up and died and after 20 years he still grieves, well, that will be me about Willow.
But darned if you haven’t found your own spot in my heart to snuggle into. And so I replaced the picture of me and my best friend from five years ago with the picture of me and you from three days ago.
Summer, my little pal, I guess they call that a sign that I’m finally entering the “acceptance” stage, though I’ll always miss her like crazy. I just wanted to thank you for helping me get here. Come over here and give me a hug? Summer, come? Oh well, I didn’t expect you to.