Lightning strikes...

...A lightning of love that is...
Her name, as we kept it, is Foxie. She came with ears pricked, a smooth, rich golden-yellow coat , eyes that spoke straight to our heart, and a smiling face, which she placed in my lap - and that's when I was struck. I was, i think, not more than 10 years old, when Foxie's bolt of love hit me.
My granny lives in a ground floor flat, and I was spending the evening there with my aunt. It was a late summer evening, the sun had just faded beyond the yonder fence, and out of the darkness came Foxie, just as I formerly described. She walked to our doorstep, wagged her bushy tail, and sensing we were loving her attention, she sat down by me, and put her head in my little lap...I'll never forget that moment. It was that day, that instant, that my heart registered a bond with every doggie - and over the years, it's only become stronger.
Not that I'd never encountered dogs before. I've grown up with two huge Irish Setters - Gypsie and Spark. I loved them, yes, and I cried my eyes out when they died, but Foxie just made me love deeper.I wanted to become a vet after she came into our lives, but why I didn't is a different story altogether. Can't deal with needles, and anything bloody!
We kept Foxie - but she belonged to everyone who loved her. We didn't restrict her to our home - but she came and plonked herself on her mat as and when she desired. My aunt, is cuckoo about animals, and she secured Foxie with her hugs, doggie talk, food and love.
One day, Foxie left...a family adopted her...they really wanted to, which is good, but I remember crying...Now, when I look back, it doesn't hurt. Maybe I didn't own her, but I own those memories. Maybe she didn't reserve all her love for me, but she gave me enough for me to spread to others like her...