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

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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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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