Friendly is as friendly does, my Labrador is nothing if she's not a friend to all. She's all hello's with those tail wags and eyes that speak. She's happiness in fur, an exuberance that needs to sprint, and more than that, she's an eternal springtime in her sweet emotions.
There was never a stagnant wintry puddle my Labrador didn't feel a deep urge to run through. She'd send spray up on either side, her soon soaked fur showing her running muscles all the more.
With a broad head and a broad sense of humour, my Labrador is amusement and joy. He says so much with those eyes, his irises as chocolate as his thick winter-proof fur.
Was there ever a Labrador born that could resist the sweet aromatic scent of a garbage bin? It is an aroma I cannot appreciate, yet they all agree on this point of view, these bouncy friends of fur with robust tail wags.
Her sandy form moves over the beach toward the ocean, becoming her own motion picture of joy. She is every bit the Labrador of my dreams. She is my childhood memories replayed with a sweeter emotionality.
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