The guard dog

The Guard Dog

In the hospital my dad brought me a tiny bulldog stuffed toy. I would put the dog on my chest or on the edge of the bed. If a nurse came in with a needle to give me a poke, the dog would start growling. That little guy was my guard dog.

My mom brought me two pillows with handmade pink pillow cases. It wasn't the pillows I loved, it was that the cases smelled like "home."  Home to me isn't a particular house or location. Home to me is people.  Having those pillowcases, that little dog, and my parents meant I was home.

Coming back to Jackson made me realize how much my new home is similarly based on people. Trey is my new home; as well as my neighbors, clients and friends. I am certainly glad to be home.