This post is part of my attempt at Bloganuary 2024. Today’s prompt is:
Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?
I’m going to let this young lady answer that for me:
I could think of countless examples of feeling loved. As a child. As a parent. As a friend. As a lover.1 But picking up your dog from the dogsitter after you’ve been away for a few days somehow distils the feeling down to its most-basic.

Footnotes
1 I feel like I’m about to break into a Meredith Brooks song.
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