Corgis are magic. You couldn’t convince me otherwise.
They are tiny, ridiculous puffs of energy – all heart and floof. And they are bright. Incredibly so. Minnie gently waited, nosed, and hung around our autistic son for a WHOLE YEAR, before he reciprocated. She didn’t give up; she won him over and now they’re thick as thieves.
Dr. Minerva Floofybutte is a joke.
Made an appointment with her office and her examination room is a mess.
Squeaky toys, tennis balls, mismatched chews and shredded cardboard boxes everywhere. I even stepped on what I hope is peanut butter!
He was an autistic 8-year-old; not fond of animals. She was a feisty corgi puppy, determined to bite everyone in her path.
He screamed. She herded. He cried. She cocked her head and squeaked. But nevertheless she persisted.
With his matted hair and snarling mouth, he crouched low and waited for me to run. Almost like he was egging me on to make a move.
“Give me a reason, little girl. Just give me one good reason and I’ll rip you to shreds.”Continue reading
