I can think of no better way than to start the day peacefully. To be able to sit in my bed, tea within reach, blind open to view the trees and a warm dog by my side. Well this morning at least it is happening after having a little dog face pop up into my face as I tried to pretend I was sleeping. She had heard my husband preparing for his day down in the kitchen and she knew that meant is was time for her to get up. This is the newest addition to our family, Tallulah Belle, a five month old 'schnorkie'. Go ahead and guess what combo that is. I say mutt, my son says, designer dog.
I still haven't gotten over Gracie. She is a hard dog to recover from but I realized I had a hole in my heart that needed something. Max our sweet terrier is 14 years old. He is fat, slow, sometimes unsteady on his feet and I love him like crazy. But a thought crept into my head if there wasn't another dog in the house when Max made his final exit, what would I do? It would be like losing Gracie and Harry all over again plus Max. I couldn't stand the thought. So Tallulah has come into our lives. Max is not thrilled but tolerant. And Tallulah? She is a puppy, thrilled and exuberant in life. Either going full speed or crashed into an inky black spot on the floor. Chewing her toys or trying to bring in large pieces of tree bark into the house to chew. Hiding her treats behind the ficus or the husband's size 13 boots so Max (and maybe me) won't find them.
She reminds me of how glorious the world really is. In a time were people are looking at their losses from tropical storm Irene, she is the reminder that there still is wonder and goodness out there. Even though our community was not as heavily damaged as others. In my daily routines of shopping or traveling about the area. I am reminded constantly of what other people have lost and it is hard on the soul and spirit to see such loss. And it bring back the memories of when we lost our home and all our processions in a fire. Tallulah eases the stress. How can I not laugh when I see her running through the long grass, finding herself lost 5 feet away from the driveway? The world is a jungle for this small dog and she faces it head on and at full speed. No it may not be the wisest course of action but it is a wonder to watch. And to me she reflects the rebuilding of Vermont. People are facing the devastation head on and are going full speed ahead. Temporary bridges are being put into place, some roads may not get fixed till next year but most are passable. People have relocated. Funds have been raised and are continued to being raised to help those in need. Of course there are stories of greed, of those who would take advantage of this situation or any that would make them money. But the bigger stories are those of recovery. And that is what I focus on.
During the storm and after the smell in the air was that of dirt. Farm land and yards swept away and floating down the many creeks, streams and rivers. Then it changed. You could smell the decay. The waters looked like light coffee flowing between the banks. It was brown, chocolate, foaming, swirling, full of debris. Depositing the debris where ever it could. Trees, brush, bridges, houses found miles from where they came from. And it smelled. Not the earthy smell of walking in the woods but the smell of a dump.
The waters have receded and life goes on. I have a new pup and she brings me great joy and at the same time sorrow. She reminds me of what was and what is to be. But that is okay. The sun is coming out, it looks golden and the leaves through my window reflect the sunlight in the raindrops left on them. The geese fly overhead crying and talking to each other. My pup is asleep and I am happy. Even Max is snoring away in his bed. What could be better? This is a perfect moment. We all have them we just have to recognize that we do. And with that we go on, just like Tallulah, running head long into our futures.
I still haven't gotten over Gracie. She is a hard dog to recover from but I realized I had a hole in my heart that needed something. Max our sweet terrier is 14 years old. He is fat, slow, sometimes unsteady on his feet and I love him like crazy. But a thought crept into my head if there wasn't another dog in the house when Max made his final exit, what would I do? It would be like losing Gracie and Harry all over again plus Max. I couldn't stand the thought. So Tallulah has come into our lives. Max is not thrilled but tolerant. And Tallulah? She is a puppy, thrilled and exuberant in life. Either going full speed or crashed into an inky black spot on the floor. Chewing her toys or trying to bring in large pieces of tree bark into the house to chew. Hiding her treats behind the ficus or the husband's size 13 boots so Max (and maybe me) won't find them.
She reminds me of how glorious the world really is. In a time were people are looking at their losses from tropical storm Irene, she is the reminder that there still is wonder and goodness out there. Even though our community was not as heavily damaged as others. In my daily routines of shopping or traveling about the area. I am reminded constantly of what other people have lost and it is hard on the soul and spirit to see such loss. And it bring back the memories of when we lost our home and all our processions in a fire. Tallulah eases the stress. How can I not laugh when I see her running through the long grass, finding herself lost 5 feet away from the driveway? The world is a jungle for this small dog and she faces it head on and at full speed. No it may not be the wisest course of action but it is a wonder to watch. And to me she reflects the rebuilding of Vermont. People are facing the devastation head on and are going full speed ahead. Temporary bridges are being put into place, some roads may not get fixed till next year but most are passable. People have relocated. Funds have been raised and are continued to being raised to help those in need. Of course there are stories of greed, of those who would take advantage of this situation or any that would make them money. But the bigger stories are those of recovery. And that is what I focus on.
During the storm and after the smell in the air was that of dirt. Farm land and yards swept away and floating down the many creeks, streams and rivers. Then it changed. You could smell the decay. The waters looked like light coffee flowing between the banks. It was brown, chocolate, foaming, swirling, full of debris. Depositing the debris where ever it could. Trees, brush, bridges, houses found miles from where they came from. And it smelled. Not the earthy smell of walking in the woods but the smell of a dump.
The waters have receded and life goes on. I have a new pup and she brings me great joy and at the same time sorrow. She reminds me of what was and what is to be. But that is okay. The sun is coming out, it looks golden and the leaves through my window reflect the sunlight in the raindrops left on them. The geese fly overhead crying and talking to each other. My pup is asleep and I am happy. Even Max is snoring away in his bed. What could be better? This is a perfect moment. We all have them we just have to recognize that we do. And with that we go on, just like Tallulah, running head long into our futures.
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