For the past 7 years, Fly and I have been inseparable.
Fly is an English Bull Terrier. He was born in Belarus and imported to a fighting gang in Massachusetts.
Fly will stand in the middle of a flock of chickens and let our rooster (Snuggles) peck him on the nose. He will defer to the cat when she wants his place on the couch. He likes to visit with his Haflinger sister Bellie and try to lick our old goat through the fence.
When he wouldn't fight, he was unceremoniously dumped and landed with a fellow who named him Papillon (after the movie) and who was determined to find him a good home. How we connected will always seem like a small miracle to me.
Fly is 12 years old now. Once a day, he goes to his barn to see his sister Bellie and his best friend Hank. For that one hour, he forgets that his body is getting old and sore, and plays like there is no tomorrow.