Post office trips

Less than a block from my apartment is a somewhat rundown post office affiliate. I passed it without realizing it was even open the first time. Having a post office not even a baseball throw away has turned me into a prolific postcard writer these days. If I’m lucky, the owner’s dog is there. We have a routine – I walk in, drop into a squat with my arms wide open, and she comes waddling towards me already licking the air in preparation for planting kisses on me.

My favorite days are the ones where I am headed to the gym and pass by the post office only to see this angelic dog sunbathing. I felt bad the first couple of times I ruined her sunny nap until I realized we both were just as excited to see each other. I sit down next to her. She curls into my lap. She kisses me while I rub her tummy. A pause in the chaos.

“I think she wants to leave with you!” the owner quips. Oh, I would happily take her.

I need a dog. Until then, I’ll be making daily trips to the post office. Anyone want a postcard?


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