On a lazy Saturday, if no food is being served, you will likely find my little buddy Gabriel sharing my sleeping space.
On a lazy Saturday, I keep one ear half-awake to pick up the jingle of leashes and Mom's half-question: "walk?"
On a lazy Saturday I like those comforts that emerge in the steam off of Mom's tea, the scent of baking and the whispering cold wind outside the window.
On a lazy Saturday I remember being alone, afraid, abandoned in a kennel. And then I smile for what life has become.
On a lazy Saturday I dream of dogs being adopted. Just like me.