1992. Sixth grade. Nirvana’s ‘Come as You Are‘ plays and suddenly I know what real music is.
Every time I walk Sammie, I get that feeling back again. His paws tap out that intro bass line that will forever be the peak of rock ‘n roll. By the end of our walk, we’re growling and barking into the air, our microphone before an enraptured crowd, singing the wrong lyrics, the right words for how we feel.
I can still feel the flannel shirt tied around my waist, long hair in my face, newly-learned swear words on my lips, that sense of leaving childhood behind, falling into the angst of adolescence.
Sammie’s all those good times, the soundtrack of youth.
(You may recognize this dude from our April newsletter. Every month we send out The Critter Courier where we feature photos of your pets, post informative pet-related content, stories, and holidays schedules.)