Every day starts out with him jumping on the bed and staring at me with his Beagle/Basset eyes. Followed by a whimper of dissatisfaction at my lack of acknowledgement. After a paw to the head I rise from my slumber.
With a tired body I drape myself(more) in whatever clothes I find. Nobody cares what I wear when my Bagel takes me for a walk.
The moment his paws hit the porch he pauses. With snout lifted to the sky, he lets the sense of smell take over. He begins to breathe deeply while turning his head toward the wind. With the first interesting scent he pulls me from my shoes off into the woods.
In a flash he is up to eyes in leaves, dirt and what all is on the ground. With enthusiasm so great his small body pulls me without consultation until he has satisfied his curiosity of the scent. His curiosity has taken him far in distance and time. It has brought him face to face with a skunk, stuck under a house, and a night at the pound which I think he considered summer camp from the look of joy on his face when I picked him up.
His curiosity has turned my red hair white, made me late for work and appreciate his sense of adventure.
Everyday is the same. He lives to follow scents. Gladly he also lives to cuddle me which is a very Bagel trait. It might be the same thing day after day, but when I look into those big brown eyes I can't help but feel his contentment, his feeling of accomplishment, the satisfaction of knowing I'm happy when he's happy. (less)
there were all these little consistencies
straight out of the gate
we laugh for hours sometimes
at the absurdity of it all
only to find ourselves temporarily choice-less
and back in the trenches
(more) and it isn't as funny from this side of the fence
it's not surprising, the parallels,
after all, we have the stars looking out for us
makes it easier to get it done
so we can let it be
it isn't often that everything falls into place
usually a last-minute tug from one puppet-master or another
or maybe even chickenpox
but the scales will balance eventually
and meanwhile the beat goes on
same song, different version yet very similar
it all blends together
like it was always there and in a way
In the depths of sorrow, I continue reading. The news is not shocking. Most who are paying attention and taking note, knew it would come to this. We know it will get worse as it continues. Still. The sorrow of reading about the children. All those babies. Why does(more) it have to come to babies being slaughtered?
I feel the warm tears fall from my eyes. I just can't stop crying. Many times it turns to noisy sobs.
Despite my strong hope and researched knowledge, I cry. I will always cry for the babies. (less)