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  • I love being one of those people. The people who appear to be entirely carefree, driving with all the windows open on a perfectly sunny day- driving somewhere with determination but relaxation- driving with some nice, airy summertime music playing good and loud but not too loud- just loud enough. Wind whipping through my hair- my dog with her head poking out the backseat window, her ears flapping around in the wind- myself coming to terms with the fact that everyone loves a dog in a car and the fact people want to be me right now, just because I was transporting a dog. We travel to the upscale square, my perfect dog hops out of the car and sits perfectly patiently while I put on my running shoes. We pay the parking meter and set off. My perfect strides synched with my dog's perfect strides- just us perfectly striding down the street with purpose. Maybe that's what made today so perfect- the purpose- the reason for being. I had a goal and I was going to reach it. Everything was going my way- not often you can really feel that. I had a single task- and I had all the time in the world to do it. (Okay, actually I was at the mercy of the parking meter, but still...) I felt like I belonged. I was a dog owner and people knew it. After a while, my dog and I sat under a shade tree, the day was growing old. My dog was a reason for conversation. I loved seeing people light up when they see my dog. My dog is powerful. We traveled to a cafe, and my dog sat and was so well behaved. I was like a proud parent. I went inside for just a moment, never concerned that she'd run away. No- I returned to find her being rubbed on the belly- her favorite spot. I was a dog owner and people knew it. Dogs get people talking. I love my dog.
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