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Why I Need A Dog

I said to the Universe, "I want a dog."
The Universe said to me, "I know you do. But we all want things."
I said again, "But I really want one though."
The Universe shrugged, then suggested I go for a walk. "It's so nice out."
So I stepped into my well-worn but still sturdy black boots. Eleven year-old Keens, just a few months older than my youngest child. There's a photo of her, somewhere, as a wobbling wide-eyed baby, wandering the marmoleum kitchen floor of my former life, her darling dimpled thighs swallowed whole by my size 7s. Now nearly as big as me, she borrows them when she doesn't want to lace up her Chucks to go empty the litter box. Those old boots zip right on and are so easy. The perfect boot for urban and rural tromping. With a dog.
But fine, Universe, if you think I need alone time, I'll go for a walk. In my old boots. By myself. 
"Just one more thing .... Universe? You still there?" I stopped in my half-heart…

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