Linda, I loved this story. Thank you so much for being here.
My dog Kole taught me so much when he was around...be in the moment, find joy, and play! He was my faithful companion through a divorce, through Jeff's first cancer diagnosis, and my run buddy. He was always happy to see me no matter what. I miss him so much. Thank you.
So lovely, Linda - well, apart from *that* bit - you know the bit I mean! *holds hand over nose*
I'm afraid of dogs - I don't know if that's because I haven't had any in my life, or whether that's WHY I haven't had any in my life - but I appreciate them as wonderful creatures nevertheless.
We don't have any now, but my pets had always been barnyard animals - ducks, goats, sheep, hens. They were all so important to me.
What a resplendent creature, Linda! I wonder if certain dogs are bearers of an “old soul” personality? Your phrase, “… getting me off the couch for a walk,” is how I’ve come to view our dog, Izzie. Not just because of her enthusiasm for life but because she is good motivation to get on my feet. Some neuromuscular snafu limits my present range and pain is one result of every walk I take. Not her fault by far, so I owe her the 3-a-day outings. In return I receive her devotion and companionship. Her daily examples of being present and joyful and energetic are gentle nudges to be the same. I love all the attributes of Maika’i ‘s name. It is only through our connections with our dogs/pets that we can know them. I talk constantly with Izzie, identifying components in our walking environment and home as well. “Hawk-bird” as one flies over. “Car coming” as an alert. “Yellow-squeaky toy” for a toy that is just that! When I ask her to bring “blue-bow-tie” that’s what she brings. As your essay so clearly demonstrates, our dogs are Zen Masters for our lives. Have a great day today, Linda. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.
Great dog! And a lovely tribute to him. And yes, “Paisley tears” are a thing in our house when we remember her. Which we still do. A lot. Thanks for another great write Linda.
Linda, I loved this story. Thank you so much for being here.
My dog Kole taught me so much when he was around...be in the moment, find joy, and play! He was my faithful companion through a divorce, through Jeff's first cancer diagnosis, and my run buddy. He was always happy to see me no matter what. I miss him so much. Thank you.
So lovely, Linda - well, apart from *that* bit - you know the bit I mean! *holds hand over nose*
I'm afraid of dogs - I don't know if that's because I haven't had any in my life, or whether that's WHY I haven't had any in my life - but I appreciate them as wonderful creatures nevertheless.
We don't have any now, but my pets had always been barnyard animals - ducks, goats, sheep, hens. They were all so important to me.
What a resplendent creature, Linda! I wonder if certain dogs are bearers of an “old soul” personality? Your phrase, “… getting me off the couch for a walk,” is how I’ve come to view our dog, Izzie. Not just because of her enthusiasm for life but because she is good motivation to get on my feet. Some neuromuscular snafu limits my present range and pain is one result of every walk I take. Not her fault by far, so I owe her the 3-a-day outings. In return I receive her devotion and companionship. Her daily examples of being present and joyful and energetic are gentle nudges to be the same. I love all the attributes of Maika’i ‘s name. It is only through our connections with our dogs/pets that we can know them. I talk constantly with Izzie, identifying components in our walking environment and home as well. “Hawk-bird” as one flies over. “Car coming” as an alert. “Yellow-squeaky toy” for a toy that is just that! When I ask her to bring “blue-bow-tie” that’s what she brings. As your essay so clearly demonstrates, our dogs are Zen Masters for our lives. Have a great day today, Linda. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.
Great dog! And a lovely tribute to him. And yes, “Paisley tears” are a thing in our house when we remember her. Which we still do. A lot. Thanks for another great write Linda.