Page 75 of Unstable

My dog moves closer and nuzzles into me, laying his head on my arm and wagging his tail once.

“I love you too, Bourbon.”

And it strikes me like lightning—my dog totally just answered me in the purest form possible. He showed me. I know he loves me because he’s always by my side, especially when I need him most. He watches out for me and starts his day by seeking me out because he wants to see me first thing.

And he knows I love him because I take care of him, his health and happiness my priority. Always taking time to pet him, praise him, and include him in my plans. Smiling whenever he’s with me.

We give each other as much as we get, mutually, willingly. Without burden, because we want what’s best for the other.

“Thanks, boy, you’re absolutely right. I’m gonna be gone today, you want to stay in or out?”

He ambles toward the door, maybe to go to the bathroom, maybe to answer my question. I’m not sure yet. I let him out and decide to assess his decision when it’s time to leave.

And I snicker to myself in the shower at what an onlooker would think. Eh, fuck ‘em. You can’t understand a relationship like mine and Bourbon’s until you’ve had a dog like Bourbon.

I think about what he told me, the dog, while I get dressed. Keaton does love me, because he exceeds all the things you do to show someone you love them.

But me? I don’t. Yet. I want to though.

What’s that mean?

Henley, you know exactly what that means. You’re just still a little scared to acknowledge it. But you’re getting there. Atta me!

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