2. i'd live on a farm.

if i had a dog, i would live on a farm.
we'd go for walks through the morning dew collected on the tall grasses,
between sun and shade of the pine trees in the afternoon,
and into the evening dusk looking above to the heavens.

we'd walk the cow path along the hillsides.
he'd stop at the stream for a drink.
he'd look deep into the pond water at the fish and paw at them,
amused by their wiggly-ness.

he'd sit patiently waiting for me on the other side of the fence,
while i tended to the chickens and goats, barking occasionally,
ever-so-politely reminding me he's there and not to be forgotten.

then we'd take one more turn around the pond
before heading back into the house. with it being
autumn, he would, first, take a long drink of water
(and make a mess doing it) and then curl up at my
feet on the floor by the wood-burning stove while
i read. he'd glance up at me from time-to-time with
eyes silently asking for a head rub before
closing them again and continuing his nap.

living on a farm would grant him so much space to run and explore and walk and sleep and swim and get messy--all important since he's a big big dog. (his true size is exaggerated because of all his fluffy hair.) he could befriend other animals like the goats, but not the cows; he makes them nervous; and not the chickens; he's too big. he's not outside at night when the bats are soaring and the fish only pop at the surface to tease him. so i guess it'll be him and the goats until an alpaca or burrow is introduced to the barn. soon, though, lulu will arrive and they'll be the best of friends because dogs need a dog friend as much as they need a human friend.