05/26/2026
🐾Precious Pets: Ten, Not Old—Just Getting Started
I turned ten this winter, but don’t you dare call me old. I’m Jasmine, a proud Tibetan Terrier—queen of the Hilltop parkways and ruler of every sidewalk my paws touch. I live with my mom, sister, and dad. Denver is my kingdom, full of endless sunshine, crisp pine-scented air, fresh snow, and the mouthwatering smells drifting from kitchens along our street.
Most mornings start with Dad clipping on my leash. The moment we step outside, I lift my nose and take a long sniff. The sidewalks are still quiet, and I fall into my happy trot beside him, already imagining the rustle of leaves and the soft grass waiting at the park.
When we reach the green parkways, my whole body relaxes. The trees line up like friendly sentries, and I weave along the path, ears flopping, tail curled high. Then I spot them—squirrels darting up trunks, birds hopping through the grass as if I don’t exist. I lower my chest, give a playful growl, and burst forward, chasing them just far enough to feel the thrill before Dad’s gentle tug reels me back in.
People pass by, and I bark my loudest bark to remind them who’s patrolling. Some jump, so I rush forward wagging to fix it—two seconds after sounding my alarm, I’m pressing my head against their legs and handing out quick, apologetic kisses. Kids with sticky fingers, neighbors with coffee cups, runners slowing to say hello—I greet them all.
My favorite part of the day comes when we’re back home and everything grows quiet. Dad sits on the couch, and I leap into his lap like I’m still a puppy. He wraps his arms around me, strokes my fur, and sometimes kisses my nose. The city keeps moving, squirrels still plotting somewhere outside, but in that moment it’s just Dad, his steady heartbeat, and me—exactly where I belong.
🖊Hilltop Resident Michael Davis
