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Life Was a Highway

Life was a Highway

The first thing I noticed was the distinct sound. I looked down the street and saw a motorcycle approaching.  My heart held a special place for motorcyclists. Most riders I knew picked adventure over comfort and saw life through a unique lens.

Life was a highway, they said. We all picked our own roads and how we chose to travel on them.  It made me wonder if all humans who enjoyed riding a motorcycle had a different view of life’s highway.

First, because I was a canine and much of my life was processed through scent, I wondered if it had to do with the olfactory experience. Imagine the abundance of smells that were experienced all at once by the constant rush of air when on the open road.

And then I wondered if it had something to do with the lean. Unlike passive vehicle driving, motorcycles demanded the rider lean into turns.  On a bike, you can’t sit back and let the bike do all the work for you; you must be equally engaged.  It was a whole-body experience.  And there was a sweet spot in the lean; too far either way had unintended outcomes.

Finally, I wondered if maybe it was simply because motorcycle riders knew that the road listened to what they had to say.

How ever you choose to navigate life’s highway, may your travels be safe, your view unobstructed and your adventures many.

 

Black And White Photos: Transcended Beyond Memory

I am not all that fond of black and white photos of myself. There is a somberness in the lack of color in the surroundings that makes my heart ache. It feels as if the photo is capturing the very essence of my soul, with all its shadows created by the judgement of others, and placed on display for everyone to see. It is almost too real to bear.

And now that moment captured on film has transcended beyond memory; to be relived at any time with a simple glance at the grey image.

It is a bit of an odd situation to be in, striving to sit in comfort with self while the chatter of self-recrimination echoes.

But alas, that is where I spend most of my time.

Until next time,

Jack

A Valentine’s Day Dog Story Of Love

Heartwarming Short Dog Story called Valentine's Day Dog Story of Love

I watched, snuggled into her shoulder, as she scrolled through another article. She was focused on the little screen pretty much to the exclusion of all else.

Yeah, she knew, in some abstract way, that I was there, resting my eyes and enjoying the silence of the afternoon. But she didn’t know know.

You know?

I had faded into the periphery, acknowledged but not immediately significant.

At that moment, I wondered what would happen if I challenged her devotion to her devices and placed myself in her direct line of vision.

I quickly assembled a plan.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

I hoped anyway.

I jumped down from my comfy perch and onto her lap. I rested my paws on her shoulders and licked her face  To say she was surprised was an understatement.

I was now squarely between her and her device.

What was she going to do? Would I be banished to the floor?

My plan had been hastily devised and I hadn’t really considered the consequences.  I snuck a quick look at her expression.


She smiled her joy.

My joy was her smile.

It was magnificently perfect.

How could I ever forget that she loved me?

Happy Valentine’s Day, Y’all.

Hug your human.

Jack

Wouldn’t It Be Lovely To Chat With Chewbacca

In this Heartwarming short dog story Jack is learning the language of the Wookiees

After watching the trailer for Star Wars The Rise of Skywalker, I had a sudden urge to learn Shyriiwook, the language of the Wookiees.

There is something about speaking a second language that appeals to my ego.  I feel accomplished.  Now that I know that Shyriiwook is a difficult, even impossible language for most non-Wookiees to speak,  I feel doubly accomplished. I think I even have the colloquialisms down.

Although my accent and pronunciation may not sound natural to a native Wookiee, I impress most humans with my learned skills.

Oh, wouldn’t it would be lovely to sit and chat with Chewbacca. I think we would understand and connect with each other far beyond simply speaking the same language.

Ruh gwyaaaag (I am friend)

Muaarga (Peace)

Jack

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An Essential Stop On The Hero’s Journey

dog short story of white dog running through snow in forest

There is something wonderful about running unabandoned through the trees with no particular purpose beyond the joy of movement and the moment.

In my experience, forests are sacred places. A space to explore who you are without reprimand or expectation. For the surrounding trees do not sit in judgment.  They allow you to be you.

I found myself wondering why in the great literary tales, the forest is an essential stop on the hero’s journey.  I think it is because meandering lost through the vast woodlands grants the hero an opportunity to discover depths of self, literally and metaphorically. To achieve true contentment,  the hero must overcome the challenge of embracing who and what they are; raw and naked without societal buffers of defined roles and labels.

Here’s to becoming a hero,

Jack

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This Is What I Hope

exploring the new woodlands

One day in early November, when winter teased with its first snowfall, my human and I spent the afternoon exploring new woodlands.

I remember the warmth of the sun, even as I stepped on patches of snow.  I remember sniffing the ground where the deer had passed through the night before and listening to the geese fly over, leaving before winter took hold.

I remember wondering if my verticle was high enough to reach to the top of the fallen log.

I remember just going for it and leaped. I landed high off the ground, bark beneath my paws.

But mostly, I remember the excitement of exploring.  everything was clearer, sharper because it was new. I stopped and took a moment to really see the new forest.  For how many times had I looked but not really seen past the immediate, the superficial; to the possibilities that lie beyond.

And this is what I hope for you in 2020.

Adventure.

New experiences.

New, deeper perspective.

The courage to take risks.

A life lived.

From our house to yours, happy holidays.

Jack

Imagine If Kindness Was The New Cool

Kindness is a shoulder to lean on

Kindness can be as simple as providing a shoulder to rest a weary head.

I bring this up because, in case it slipped your notice, November 13th is World Kindness Day.

Did you know showing kindness was an important predictor of your happiness?

Now imagine if kindness was the new cool.  Just think how happy the world would be.

And what if today was the most celebrated day of the year?

Happy World Kindness Day!

Be well, do good deeds and keep in touch,

Jack

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Photo courtesy of The Doggie Den

 

Less Country More Indy

two dogs with bandanas

Back in those days, we were inseparable, me and Bucko.  We hung out at The Doggie Den with all the other dogs, but we were besties.

Bucko, he said I rocked the bandana.

But I don’t know.

For the most part, I wore my attitude and don’t bother with accessories.

However, when I did, I considered myself somewhat fashion-forward and I thought I’d look good in something more on-trend. Maybe something with an Urban Outfitters’  or Zara vibe; cuz I saw myself as less Country and more Indy.

What do y’all think? Should I have told Bucko that his fashion sense was a bit pedestrian and could be more à la mode?  Or should I have said thank you for the compliment and embraced the bandana craze?

Drop me a line and share your fashion advice.

Who-what-wear,

Jack

Photo courtesy of The Doggie Den

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When Busy Minutes and Seconds Are The Only Measures Of Worth

Busy human lives

The vehicle came to a slow stop at the intersection. I watched pedestrians cross the road, hurrying to arrive at the destination, giving off the distinct vibe that they had to fill every second of the day to feel productive; that there must be a physically tangible result for the time spent on any endeavor.   Busy minutes and seconds were allocated as a measure of worth. As a result,  time given to quiet contemplation and reflection seemed to garner little value.

Through the window,  I saw humans scurrying about.  I thought about life, about my life in particular;  walking in the park, chasing birds and squirrels, frequently hearing ‘atta boy’ and ‘good doggy,’  playing with my fur friends, taking long naps, getting cuddles, and hugs.

I thought about the simplicity of my life and I wondered if it was this simplicity that brought contentment.

And then I wondered about those busy human lives.

Peace,

Jack

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