Watchful Devotion
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Very Good, Very Bad Dog
By Cris Kenney

Fun fact: It’s believed that the Icelandic Sheepdog was brought to Iceland in the late 9th or early 10th century by Viking settlers.

My finger slipped. The word escaped me: “Oops.” My dog, Kai, hurtled across the room, barely cleared the screen of my laptop, and landed squarely on my chest. I laughed even as I scrambled to shift my laptop to a side table — an awkward task with twenty-five pounds of Icelandic Sheepdog on top of me — then wrapped my arms around him, ruffling the long, silky fur that had never really lost its puppy softness. “I’m fine, bud. I made a typo. Okay? A typo. I’m fine. I promise.”

He was not immediately convinced, but I made my breathing slow and calm as I petted him, and after a minute or so he seemed to conclude that all was indeed well here. He hopped up over my shoulder and onto the back of my chair, where he sprawled like a cat resting lazily on a branch, draping down to rest his nose and one front paw by my ear. (Keep reading)