Look, I gotta tell you.
Sometimes you get right out there in the world and you get messy. You run in the wind; you jump in the puddles; you chase squirrels; and you roll in the mud.
And sometimes you sit on the back of the sofa and bring the world to the window.
Photo courtesy of The Doggie Den
During the summer of my 4th year, I met a baby human.
“Junie, this is Jack.” The bearded man introduced us as he propped his child on his knee, granting her greater access to view the world around her. I watched cautiously. I balanced one paw on his ankle, not sure if this was the best of ideas.
I could feel the baby staring intently at me. Curious. And a bit aloof. Maybe she hadn’t had much interaction with canines. Surely, I wasn’t intimidating. I was little myself.
And I can’t say the introduction was easy for me either. She was the smallest human I had ever encountered, by far. With her little baby fingers and little baby toes. And those chubby chubby cheeks.
I looked away, hoping to escape Junie’s intent gaze. Was she going to cry? Was she about to flail her arms?
Did I take this chance and make my getaway? Or did I give this awkward meeting more than 30 seconds?
I was apparent, to me at least, neither of us was all that thrilled about the other.
I wondered how I could bridge this gap.
And did I even want to.
Suddenly;y, I felt a reassuring hand on gentle words. I could hear understanding in his tone. And I knew that he knew.
Life has a rhythm. Relationships have a tempo. And the ease of friendship takes time.
Four dogs sauntered to the backyard for a game of double-ball birthday fetch. Only two came back with the prize.
Can you guess which two?
Yep, me and my buddy Hank.
Tammy gathered the dogs for a birthday game of chase and fetch. She held four tennis balls in her hands.
As she explained the rules, I took a quick look around and made mental count of the dogs who were eager to play fetch. Bucko, Hank, Mercer, Monica and Phoebe. When I included myself in the mix, I came up with a total of 6.
Four tennis balls.
This was about to become a game of high jumps, scrambles and takeaways.
I received my invitation, summoning me to Goldie’s house one late summer evening. It was to be a night of joy and celebration.
For that day marked my then bff, Bucko’s first birthday and now all his friends were present; ready for serious puppy play.
So we raised our metaphoric glass to friendship, back yard shenanigans and, of course, Bucko.
Recently, I stumbled upon a way to maneuver myself until I was situated across her shoulders. Previous to this discovery, I rode on the console (sometimes) or the back passenger seat with the window down (mostly). And while the back seat is still a viable option, it is no longer my fav.
I felt compelled to give a review of my new fav seating choice.
Overall results; little of Column of A, little of Column B
Details of results:
Superior view of passing scenery
Real time understanding of twists and turns in navigation
Comfortable seating that conforms to the body type
Close proximity to rather loud off key tone deaf singing (notice how I discreetly flop my closest ear)
Conclusion: Yeah, mostly Column B
Will I still utilize my options? Yes
* and hope for a quiet ride
The sun flooded the carpet in front of me. I stretched my legs in a perfect downward dog.
This was my favorite pose to discover an exquisite calmness amid internal chaos.
For who better than a dog to demonstrate how to relax stressed muscles and move toward a peaceful center, for nearly everyone craves inner calmness on some level. And nearly everyone longs for a deeper connection to self.
Someone once told me that if I explore the wilderness of my mind, I will find my inner light; the source of the universe.
Begin your explorations, my friend. Let every cell relax into utter stillness.
I waited patiently. I understood it was a simple human oversight. She had forgotten to roll down the window as was customary on our treks to the park. No matter the weather, hot, cold or rainy, there was an unspoken agreement between us. An Open Window Policy, per se, that granted me the opportunity to stick my head out the window and enjoy the wind blowing through my hair when we were driving slowly through town. And I don’t know if you know it, but the outside air acted as a buffer between me and the intense smells trapped inside the confined vehicle space. And I was not the only one understood the importance of An Open Window Policy.
At what point will she recognize her lapse in attention to detail? That I had no open window? And would it happen again?
Now this is what I am talking about. Window down. Buffer in place. Be sure to check my delight in the live action version.
Humans. You gotta love ’em, despite, or rather in spite of their foibles and idiosyncrasies.
Until next time,
Oh, the challenges of summer hair.
My summer began, as it usually does, with newly shorn hair. All around me dogs and their humans seemed to be parading around with their new dos. And the internet positively buzzed with cute suggestions for summer cuts.
This was me, taking a moment to debut my summer hair in the dying light of the setting sun.
To be honest, I was partial to my longer locks; when it was a little bit shaggy, slightly riotous, and somewhat troublesome, defying the laws of nature.
I felt like that hair, my winter hair as I had come to refer to it, defined me.
Thus, I have a moment of melancholy at the beginning of every summer, as if I’ve left a bit of me behind.
Until next time,