Toto was a white dog with a small red tongue, and his stuffing was red as well.
When his seams began to come apart beneath his knitted collar, it looked to my six-year-old eyes as though he were bleeding.
That night, my father left for his shift in the emergency room with Toto wrapped in a blanket. The next day, Dad showed me the X-rays and Polaroid photographs of the surgery. Beneath the bandage on Toto’s neck was a clean row of stitches.
I still have the injury report! I love you, Dad.
from Reader's Digest http://ift.tt/2fdPsuz
No comments :
Post a Comment