Sometimes on Saturday, after a visit to the vet and many excruciating hours of waiting to see what the growth is on our shoulder, we like to slow down a bit and gaze into the eyes of our beloved parents and think about all the things we’re grateful for: rolling in worms, trotting along on the walks our mom takes us on, special slices of turkey breast in our dinner, barking until our vocal cords become weak, laying in the sun like we’re a sausage roasting in a fire pit, belly rubs, licking our dad’s feet, chewing on blankets, greeting our mother when she comes in from going to the store, hogging the bed, prospecting for ground scores, sniffing, smelling and exploring, examining other dog’s poop, our precious Sharkey, running on the beach with our dad before anyone else in the world has woken up, airing out our privates with our legs wide open as we fall into slumber, road trips and those final moments of the day when we stay downstairs with our mom as she closes the house up and eventually says,”Come on, Little, let’s go snuggle. It’s time for bed.”
The Beagle/Terrier Mix Who Could
Here, the legendary Persian queen weaves one of her captivating tales, leaving a group of mesmerized Basset Hounds, breathless.
1. Stealing the Hope Diamond
2. Winning the Kentucky Derby riding an elephant
3. Playing hopscotch with no feet
4. Launching a rocket into space using only your own flatulence
5. Moving The Great Pyramid from Egypt to Cincinnati
I have to work on joy. Cloud bursting, sky exploding, ephemeral joy. I tend to have tiny joy in my heart for minuscule things. Like the smell of coffee brewing in the morning when I am in bed. Or that feeling I get when my brain bursts open and one sentence leads to something worthy and then another and another. Or when I remember to put a notepad in front of my desk clock so it won’t keep me awake. Little things that are huge things. Awakenings. Observances. That moment when I feel the afternoon move into evening. My husband’s face when he’s telling me a story.
Let me stay in this moment—or for as long as it lasts. Let me know that each second compounds upon the other and my life moves along in that way that rivers flow sweetly. Let me remember when I forget, that the glorious small things are the things that I am drawn to, those gorgeous things are the things that keep me thriving and alive. And that’s good enough for me.
Yours In the Essence of Happy,
Sometimes on Saturday, after we’ve had our morning Greenie with a kibble and cottage cheese breakfast chaser, we like to get a jump on the action by haranguing our parents into playing an early game of Throw My Toy Nine Thousand Times Until You Tell Me To Go Away.
So I Got That Goin’ For Me,
President of Persistent