Ella Bucalli's rescue stories, senior-dog notes, and the little routines I keep coming back to
3 posts from September 2025.
I once assumed that a sleeping dog was just a dog who did not need anything from me for a few hours. I would walk past the ceramic dog-bone jar by the coffee maker, hear the heavy silence of the house, and think of it as a simple pause.
I often stand by the coffee maker in the early morning, staring at the ceramic dog-bone jar on the counter while I try to sort out what I see in my house. My foster, Pickle, has been struggling with his movement lately.
My mornings begin with the familiar clatter of the ceramic dog-bone jar by the coffee maker. I used to watch Mabel and Walter with a focus on speed, wanting them to eat with the same energy I expected from a healthy dog. Now, I watch the way they stand.