Thursday, June 20, 2013

The Best Dog There Is™

She climbs up into bed first thing in the morning and presses herself into me in an insistent cocoon, moaning as I stroke her neck and licking my hand if I start to doze.

As we prepare to do her morning duty, she seeks out one of her rubber flying disks, because the ritual is not complete until she has chased the thing at least two or three times.

As Red and I absorb our morning reading, she sniffs through her toy collection. She may bring me a rubber ball to throw or roll in an unexpected direction so she can scramble after it. She may bring me a tattered towel for a tug of war. She may walk around the room with a squeak toy in her mouth, squeaking rhythmically as if singing or joining the conversation.

And once she tires of the game, she will flop on her back and invite me to rub her tummy, scratch her chest, massage her back or all of the above.

Weary from a parade of tasks that still await when I leave these four walls, I often perform my side of the game automatically and without really engaging my full attention. Every once in a while, though, Willow makes me realize she is teaching me to take a little time to play and enjoy this miraculous journey that is life.

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