I am sure you’ve noticed. The things you apologize for have a certain repetition factor, a “Here-I-go-again” quality about them. And so it is with me. I have been lax in putting paw to print, and know that you have heard all of this this before (it’s a little like therapy, no?). Indulge me; I’ll get to you in a moment. After all, you, my patient and forgiving reader, know my reasons: I am caught up in the moment, filled with good intentions, insufficient time and yes, an absence of follow through. Know thyself.
And speaking of insufficient time, I HAVE been busy. Eureka! I recently discovered that my humanoids are experimenting with the guest chocolate…you know, branching out and getting a little extravagant. And one day, due to a bit of a communication faux pas, a management mishap, lo and behold, there it was: the promised land (Promised Land???) within reach of my expectant snout. As discipline is not my strong suit (Do I hear an AMEN????), that bad-boy chocolate tasted so good going down, oh yeah! It was the 3 a.m. after effect that interrupted my reverie. The Mommy wasn’t thrilled about stepping in it. Ugh…she went on and on in that disapproving tone as my tail hung obligingly between my legs.
Ah, but she does forgive….as we must.
In your world, you call it “being human.” I think that bad and good and good and bad are blurred lines at best. They transcend species. You understand. Forgive. Move on. There’s more life to be lived.
I wasn’t dreaming of a white Christmas. Truth be told, it was pigs-in-a-blanket. Know thyself. What could be more tempting to a canine foodie? I mean, really… Alas, there were none to be had. So I managed to work off my despair by consoling myself with Babies-in-a-Basket–you know, my collection of stuffed representatives of the animal kingdom. I made a bee-line for my menagerie and sunk my teeth into Curious George, then Anguish. They’re so compliant. But when that wasn’t enough to work off my profound disappointment, I went for Phee-Two. She’s the replacement for Phee-One, otherwise known as Phoebe. Once I tore the stuffing out of her, along came Phee-Two, who is almost half my size. Tackling her is quite the ambitious undertaking. Ah, I feel better just thinking about it…
Despite the absence of those dreamy pigs-in-a-blanket I had a great Christmas. First, my Auntie Lynda brought me a brand, spanking-new baby: Bob. He’s just the cutest thing. We’re in that getting-to-know-you phase, and off to a great start. Then, my Cousin Megan wrote an entire song about me. DA-Dah!!!!!!!!! I don’t naturally crave the spotlight, but I was so moved from within, that I attempted to sing along. It wasn’t encouraged…
My humans say that life is about the memories, the moments of genuine connection and selflessness that we create and experience. No masks, no posturing, no subterfuge. It’s true, I know, because that is the “magic” that happens here. Not always, but enough to know that it sustains us. I’m getting too deep…. And so, in stark counterpoint, my canine self resolves to get my snout on a few pigs-in-the-blanket in 2014.
No, no, no. What am I saying? Course correction: IT’S SNOWING! But really, I know that I should be grateful because:
1. Nary a single snowflake fell in the month of October. I have resided in The Icebox of Connecticut for exactly five years and this is the first time that October has come and gone in picture-perfect style. I have to say that, as a Louisiana Belle, I appreciate the seasonal-correctness that characterizes New England.
2. I have a snazzy coat collection. In keeping with the restrained sense of style in these parts, I usually sport my fleece. After all, it’s perfectly functional, it protects my locks, and it’s got those little Velcro thingies that make the whole process of dressing for my walk a veritable breeze. But best of all, it’s reversible; you know, a light lavender on one side and a dove grey on the other. And recently, The Mommy was working her Inner Fashionista by scoring an adorable fuschia cable knit sweater for me. Against my fair locks, I will be stylin’ down these country roads like nobody’s business.
3. The flakes have subsided and I am once again awash in sunlight. You see, it just gives credence to the old saying: this too shall pass.
“Miss Noelle, where have you been?” Chagrined, I must say. Guests are relieved to see that I am alive and well up here in ye old inn, but alas, my paw-pen has been silent.
Why not confess? I have been plagued with technical difficulties lo these many months. And, yes, you can call me on it because instead of putting on my Big Girl Pants–or the canine equivalent thereof–I simply slipped into AVOIDANCE. I’m here to tell you that it works, and that I understand the human tendency to dodge and dart when things get uncomfortable. But the good news is that you can rise above the A word. If I can embrace the unknown, the scary, the uncharted territory, you can, too.
On the other hand, I’ve noticed something about myself as I settle into mid-life: some battles are just not worth a woof. For example, canines on leads have a persistently-annoying obsession with sniffing my private parts. I mean, please: get over it already. Been there, done that. Don’t you remember? But I am learning to take the high road, to have compassion for the idiosyncrasies of my species and to realize that this too shall pass. In fact, I’ve even decided to be PROACTIVE about my own little habits. When I was a young pup, I’d let my fears get the best of me. Take humans on bicycles, for example. Shiver me timbers…I’ll be run over. But now I’m practicing good, positive self-talk. I’m learning to channel my nervous energy into the fine art of napping. I think they call that PERSPECTIVE….
Oh, and a special thank you from the kind lady who brought me homemade baked biscuits from Berlin. It’s those small acts of kindness that make me positively dreamy….
I spend most of my time with the human species, by choice. I have to say, they seem to glom onto me, and I find their human antics nothing short of fascinating. They rub me, brush back my fro, look me straight in the eye, speak baby talk and even get a little giddy. I call that love, pure and simple. The opposite, you might say of “sin.” In fact, I’d like to simply scratch that word from the human vernacular. Why not just think of our mishaps and foibles as syn-dromes? …the things we have to work on. I certainly have my list:
Absconding with the occasional Hershey Kiss
Letting out a WOOF when guests are asleep
Being a little too, shall we say, needy?
But here’s the thing: you give me a pass. Because in the grand scheme, you know that I am doing my best to spread the love. My heart is in it, full throttle. I’d like to think that yours is, too.