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My Goofy Dog Made Me a “Real Writer”
Gotta Love Rudy
In 10 days, it’ll be three years since I brought Rudy home. At the time, he was a wee 37.5-pound fluff ball.
Now he’s a big boy! He’s three years old, about 110 lbs (which is more than I weigh) and thinks he’s a lap dog. He’s brave, handsome and full of love.
And he’s goofy as all get out.
You can’t help but smile when you see his face and that long tongue hanging out of his face. He looks like he just stepped out of a cartoon.
But did you know that Rudy also gave me what I consider my first “real” big break in writing?
He did.
Now, when I say “real” big break or “real” writer, what I’m talking about is mainstream recognition. Anyone who writes is a real writer, so don’t come at me in the comments feeling insulted.
Yes, I’ve written a novel and yes, it’s topped the best-seller list in a specific Amazon category:
