From the February 2010 magazine.

Pot of gold

When an alcoholic finds that sobriety isn't all sunshine, she looks for rainbows

I WALKED to the front door with Molly's leash in my hand. She eagerly waited for me at the door and the queasy feeling in my stomach got worse as I watched her spin in circles. She almost never chased her tail, but on mornings such as this, when my hangover made me nauseous and my head and heart were pounding, I felt she was spinning in circles and dancing around me as if to say, "Get over it and walk me already!"

This was while I was still making the effort to walk her. Eventually I would drop her off every day at doggie daycare so that she would leave me alone in the mornings and in the evenings after work. But on this Saturday morning in late August I had no choice but to walk her. I grabbed a cough drop to alleviate my carpet tongue, attached her collar and leash, and opened the front door.


Grand Rapids, Mich.

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