I’m a good girl. Really I am. Mom tells me so all the time. She never reminds me of the day I wasn’t a good girl. The day I sent my Yorkie sibling over the doggy rainbow bridge.
I was a good girl even then, but I made a bad mistake. A really bad mistake. I didn’t mean to hurt Yorkie. He made me mad. He stole my treat. I growled at him. A really big growl. I even showed my teeth. I didn’t mean to hurt him.
I’m sorry.
I had to leave my home. I lived in Michigan. It was a nice home. I had lots of love and toys and treats. We played ball lots and Mommie cuddled with me lots. I slept on the big bed and cuddled all night. I loved my life. But I had to go away. Now I live in the country in Ohio.
Ohio Mom said my Michigan Mommie forgives me for hurting Yorkie. Mom said I have to forgive myself now. That’s important. I didn’t know how to do that. I asked her how. She said all I had to do was to love Yorkie. I could do that. Then she told me the really hard part. She said I had to love myself enough to forgive me.
Gosh, how do you do that? She rubbed my head and neck and my whole body. It felt so good. I wagged my tail and looked at her and loved her so much.
She lifted my chin and looked right at me. “That’s how,” she said. “Love.”
I wagged my tail.
“You’re a good girl. I love you,” Mom said.
I am a good girl. I love me too.