And I recommend it highly.

Okay, it wasn’t wild-run-around-the-house ball; it was stand-in-one-spot, catch-and-keep away ball. My mommies were there and my brother played, too. He gets scared and shy of shared games, so his position in the Game is to stand by my mom and got his chest rubbed.

So fun!

Then my legs didn’t work again. I fell over but I was worth it.

Then it was bedtime. I couldn’t get up so everybody, my mommies and my brother, we all slept in the living room with me, like a big pajama party. But dogs don’t wear pjs.

Everyone breathed together and slept.

The next day I got sicker but so what? I played ball, my favorite thing, and I had a pajama party with my pack.

The sun rose, got higher, made pretty patterns on our walls and I died.

I’m here to remind you: do you favorite thing, even if you think your legs are going to give out. Especially if you think that they will give out, or if you’re too busy, or if you think it isn’t important, do it anyway.

Play ball, run in a meadow, chase bunnies, eat frozen apples, whatever makes two-legged folks happy. Because your legs are going to give out like mine did.

Someday? Right?

So have fun now.

Here I have meadows and meadows and meadows in which to forever run, with no human calling me back. I have yummy food and friends and delicious clouds to sleep upon. And my body doesn’t hurt at all.

Yahoo.

Oh, and before I go, thank you for sending me love and lighting candles (whatever that means) and praying. I feel very honored and blessed by your love.

And please remember—have fun now. Do what you love to do.

Signed,
Lucita (sometimes they called me that) Doodle

This is me, resting in the sun. It’s good to lie down.

Sometimes I want to walk and sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I’m just tired.

But I figured something out about my people.

My mommy, the walker-one, the big one, she thinks it’s important to get me walking. So—I play it really smart. If I stop on the top step of the porch, she’ll give me a little treat. If I stop at the bottom of the steps, I’ll get another one. And onward, through the walk!

So I can play my mommy, who probably thinks that if we keep walking, nothing will change.

Well, it’s all changing and changing is okay. She knows that, but she probably doesn’t really feel it yet.

She will.

Meanwhile, I’m resting and deciding.

If I want to walk, I will.

If I don’t, I won’t.

But if I want to play the people for more food, I know how.

Goodbye for now.
Your friend,
Lucy Doodle