Gotcha

Today is 12/12. Such a happy day. It’s my Gotcha Day! That’s the day three years ago that Mom picked me out and adopted me and said, “I gotcha. You’re coming home with me!”

I was in a cage, with overgrown nails, bad breath, scabs on my ears, and parasites in my tummy. I was smaller than she wanted and older than she hoped I’d be. But even though I seemed all wrong, Mom saw something in me that would turn out to be just right.

That’s how it works sometimes in life…. And in writing. Mom wrote a nonfiction story for the first time in a long time. It troubled her because she didn’t love it as much as she usually loves her stories. It just didn’t sound the way she had hoped.

She brought it to her writing group named DavidLaurieandOtherDavid. They said her story had overgrown nails, bad breath, scabs on its ears, and parasites in its tummy. …not really, but they made a LOT of suggestions so Mom is practically starting over with it. She’s hoping that even if it seems all wrong , it’ll turn out to be just right.

I think the story will be fine and maybe even amazing when Mom works with it for a while. I mean, look how I turned out!