Loving a dog is like reading a good book.
From the moment that you set your eyes on that front cover, you just know it’s the right one for you.
You work your way through the first few pages, reading and rereading paragraphs and building up the foundation of the story.
You get to know the characters, to love them, to feel for them, to really understand them. You know them so well that by the time you’re halfway through the book, you can’t imagine your life without them in it.
You ride the waves of the story plot. You journey through ups and downs, celebrating the highs and feeling your heart break in two with every low.
As you approach the last chapter, you hope that every page you turn is followed by one more.
You read more slowly than usual, hanging onto every word, trying to make it last.
Then, when that final page is read, when you close the back cover of that book, it feels, for a moment, as though the world has stopped turning.
You couldn’t possibly love another book the way that you loved this one.
The characters would never feel so real.
The story would never resonate so purely.
The details would never fit so perfectly.
And so you wait.
You wait until the raw emotion has dulled.
You wait until you can’t go to bed alone for even one more night.
Then ever so cautiously, you let yourself wander down the book aisle.
You run your finger down each spine, look at the artwork that adorns each cover, thoroughly read and re-read each synopsis and then you hold your breath as you take another book in hand.
There will never be another book identical to the one you just read. But that’s okay. At the end of the day, you still have that story tucked away in your heart.
And, when you finally do read the first page of another great book, you’ll find something that you love in that one too.