I have always had a love for animals. Through my local humane society, I met a dog breed that I didn’t know existed. Duke, the brazillian mastiff, was my knight in shining armor.
When I was first introduced to him, I thought he was one of the ugliest creatures I’d ever seen. As the months and weeks passed, he became more handsome.
I was newly divorced and lived in the country. My ex wanted to keep our three dogs, and I had no energy to argue. I was lonely and frightened, especially in the evenings. I had never lived in the country before, so while the beauty and solace comforted me during the day, when the dark shadows of evening began to fall, my anxiety and fears rose.
Enter a version of John Wayne, aka, “The Duke” that I never knew existed.
Over time, we both began to heal. I was healing from a disastrous relationship that included a pet hoarder and a sociopath. Duke was healing from parasites. We had more in common than I realized. No one wanted the magnificent animal.
I had checked out and wanted to hide under nearby rocks and trees. Duke just needed a soft place to land, which ended up being my couch.
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