Some days, I go all day trying to figure out what I’m going to blog about. And some days, I never quite figure it out. Case in point: yesterday.
But today, I knew within six minutes of rolling out of bed.
I threw on some clothes and took a very excited Foxie Doxie for a very cold walk. As we walked down the driveway, I saw my very kind neighbor walking his “puppy,” Teddy. Teddy is a springer spaniel and although he’s only eight months old, he’s roughly the size of a Geo Metro. Both Teddy and his dad are sweet as can be.
Foxie Doxie, all 14 pounds of him, growled and charged Teddy.
I apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry! He’s been acting up – my other dog just died.”
Teddy’s dad’s eyes got big. “What? Oh, honey! When?”
“Friday.” And then … in my outdated walking-the-dog coat and my maybe-she’s-a-chemo-patient stocking cap, I started crying in the middle of the street. Six minutes after I rolled out of bed.
Teddy’s dad was kind, and he offered reassurance. “I know how hard that is.”
And he does. Before Teddy, there was Fred, a geriatric cocker spaniel. Fred would meander down the block and back with his dad twice a day. The round trip took them about half an hour.
Sometime last winter, I stopped seeing Fred and his entourage.
And then last spring? I saw my sweet neighbor standing in his driveway with the biggest smile on his face. He was looking down at a small brown and white puppy.
So, he does know.
Even though my day started out with the delight of having tears freeze to my cheeks, it’s been a good one. Today, things just are what they are. I’m here. And it’s just all right.
Plus, my faith has been bolstered by dinner with a friend and drinks with three others. One of my coworkers sent a condolence card to me … and one to Foxie Doxie. And … DallasDiva’s comment about dogs’ feet smelling like Doritos? It’s totally true.