by G. A. Sylverston

Created on: September 19, 2011

As I child, I lived with my parents on a farm in Vermont that I loved.  Now, I live in a 700 square foot flat in Manhattan.  Why I decided to call in to work this morning and drive to Vermont to see the old farm is beyond me.

To be honest, I have been going through some sort of life crisis.  I don't know where I belong anymore.  I don't know if I am in the right job, I feel like I am running a race but going nowhere, I feel like I should have made some kind of difference in the world by now.  I have no friends or pets because I don't have time, and I haven't talked to my parents in months.  I am however a successful lawyer.  That has to count for something, right?

As I maneuver my car through the Vermont forest, I think about what I might find when I get to the old place.  I don't expect much, in fact, the place is probably dilapidated and falling apart and whoever is living there probably won't be enthralled that I have decided to pay an unannounced visit in the middle of the week.

I pull in to the long gravel driveway and I am surprised by what I see.  The house is neatly kept and the yard is beautiful.  I make my way slowly to the front door and notice a sign in the window.  "Canine Cove: A Haven for Dogs."  I knock.  A brunette about my age answers.

"Hi!" she says.  "Are you here about the ad?"

"Ad?" I ask quizzically.

"Yes.  I need a roommate here, the place is just too big for me.  I turned the place into a no-kill shelter for dogs because there is so much land and they can roam and be free here.  So, I was hoping that whoever decided to live here would help with the animals as well."  

She looked hopeful.

"When can I move in?" I asked.

Who would have thought that an impromptu trip to Vermont might be the answer to so many questions I have been asking myself?  And who would've thought that the old place had literally gone to the dogs. 

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