I loved cuddling in my grandmother’s lap and touching the softness of her face, or running to my grandfather’s strong and opened embrace, then flying high above his head like an airplane and landed gently, once again, in his lap, of course. Big laps! Little laps! Lots and lots of laps! Cousins, friends, and neighbors too, there were good laps everywhere. All I needed to do was find one, or two, or three or more. Any lap I liked would do. And I liked lots and lots of laps.
Dogs are pretty smart. Tucker always knew when he had found a good lap! Tucker also knew which laps to avoid. He wouldn’t go anywhere near those laps. With animals, they say it is instinct. With people, they call it intuition. Either way, it’s the way of knowing something, without any rhyme or reason, just because you know it. And that is that! No questions asked.
Tucker rarely contemplated if it were a good lap or a bad lap. He just knew. But every now and then, Tucker didn’t know for sure. So he would wait or test the water. Sometimes Tucker waited for an unexplainable signal, that only he knew, that told him all was well, run the other way, or simply wait for another day.
Tucker liked lots and lots of laps, just like me! He liked Kris’ lap, and not just because she taught him to catch popcorn flying through the air. Tucker loved to snuggle with Sammy, his best dog-friend. They even shared a bone! I suppose best friends are like sharing treats and snacks. Then there was Sharon’s lap. She loved playing with Tucker and never seemed to mind his wet not pushed into her lap. Some people find this offensive, but not dog lovers.
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