Buttons was our dog. He was a pure bred Toy Poodle, mostly white with a little patch of peach on his back. I remember getting off the school bus to find my brother, who had stayed home sick, running up to me screaming, "We got a dog!" Naturally, I didn't believe him.
Sure enough, I walked down the street to my house where I met my mother and a then-nameless little Poodle puppy. Mom had some shopping to do that day, you see, and took my ill brother with her. My brother wanted to go into the pet store, and my mother said ok, "but we're just looking." Apparently my mother's definition of "just looking" is "buy the dog you like."
Last night, I dreamt that Buttons had gotten out of our yard (which the tiny little guy sometimes did do) and my brother and I were walking around the neighborhood looking for him. Down one street, we heard him barking on the next street over. We walked around to that street, and there he was in somebody's yard, very happy that we had found him. The people who had him said he just showed up there, but they were going to keep him if no one came for him.
Then I woke up remembering my doggie, and wishing I could hug him again.
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