Dear Lacie

Jake here.

Here goes.

A Letter.

A Dear Lacie Letter.

I've been trying to talk to her.

But I know she's a busy Girl.

On the run.

Whizzing through Life.

And on the phone.

Her cell phone.

Oh Dear

I just had a thought.

Maybe she's seen me calling

With her Caller ID

and simply didn't answer.

Who knows?

Not me.

Anyhow.

It's been a while since

My First Date

with the stunning Miss Lacie.

I've spent time thinking it all over.
Remembering.
Reliving.

I've been reading a bunch of those
touchy-feeling pop psychology books
from the bookshelves.

And there has been an abundance

of reflections, interpretations and suggestions

from our friends around here.

I've read them all.
I've honestly considered them all.

And it seems like there are two camps.

Those who have celebrated with me

and supported my heavenly time with Lac.

(You know who you are)

Well wishers.

Pals who have remarked

about what a lovely and handsome couple we were.

Those who commented about the start of a good thing.

Who wondered about our plans.

Future dates?

Possible thoughts of a wedding?

Those who offered best wishes for a happily ever after.

And there were those who were clearly

on the other side of the fence.

(You know who you are)

Those who called me deluded.

Who pitied me.

Who welcomed me to The Survivor Club.

Who shook their heads in disbelief

And referred to my dream as a nightmare.

Who teased

that perhaps I'd be The One

to subdue the Savage Little Beast

(yes, they called her little)

I tried to understand.
It didn't seem so funny.
To me.

I

Jake

Perhaps I would be The One.

Days have passed.

And I've been thinking.
And reading.

Nobody really knows the truth about me

before I was rescued.

Back in the mill days.

Before I found my new home.

We do know, though,

That I was no Don Juan.

And I wasn't so good with the girls.

(Do NOT tease me about that!
EVER!

I KNEW what I was doing.

Or, rather, NOT doing.

And it was my Ticket to Freedom.)

That didn't mean that I didn't ever want a girlfriend.

That I didn't want the joy of a First Date.

It's probably true.
What you've heard about me.
Or assumed about me.

I'm a laid-back, happy-go-lucky sort of guy.

I've heard people call me sweet-tempered.

Friendly.

 Admittedly I'm Shy.

A bit of an Introvert.

Though I do have a Voice.
And I'm not afraid to use it.


Still.
In general.
I am

Gentle. Patient. Courteous.

Kind. Compassionate.

Warm.  Loving.

Concerned about others

(that's why I'm such a good brother to Fergs)

Appreciative. Admiring. Approving.

And, perhaps to a fault,

Tender

and

Sensitive.

I HATE Conflict.

I DESPISE ugly Drama.

And I am far from Presumptuous

(except for when it comes to treats.

I always presume

I should get the first, biggest tastiest bite.)

Never in a million years

would I want to

Impinge on

Interfere with

Encroach on

Restrict Inhibit Hinder or Cramp

Sweet Lacie's Lifestyle.

She is a Lovely Lakey

A Gentle Doggie

(with a "delicate booty and tiny dewwiew")

In my eyes

and in my heart

She was a wonderful First Date.
Perfect.
For me.

As my friend White Dog said,

"A First Date is forever the most special ...

that is why they are often called 'Dream Dates'"

My Halloween Date with Lacie

was certainly my Dream Date.

White Dog further barked,

"It is so wonderful that you ... have found such security

in the love of your family

that ... you (are not) afraid of reaching out

and loving others."

It's true.
My world is opening up to me.

That First Date is something I would not have imagined a few months ago.

Neither would my family.

But I was ready.

I had a wonderful time.

My date Lacie was Perfect.

and

(again, thanks to White Dog's barks)

"Those memories of the other night

live in (my) heart now eternally."

For that, Lacie

I thank you.

I am perfectly satisfied.

And perfectly happy.

And my memories

of that one night alone

will stay with me furever.

Go, Lacie.

Have fun.

Be crazy.

Be YOU!

(Just be careful.)

For now
I'll stick to chewing on my bone.

It's easy.

And no one can debate it.

Love,

PS
(Just in case.  For the future. Does anyone know if Sally dates?)