|Um, dad, how did this happen?|
As I walked in the door there erupted a chorus of "Dad, I didn't do it!" "It wasn't me!". I gently greeted the group with "Thanks, Diva, Roman, Zsofia and Lilly. Exactly what didn't you do?" Everyone went silent. I meandered through the house in an attempt to discover why everyone was so distressed. In the office, there was an empty box that had once held a laptop, which was being saved for a reason no longer remembered, along with Bailey gently chewing something.
"Bailey," I quietly asked, "what's wrong?" "Oh, dad, I just couldn't help myself. I'm still feeling tired and angry and sad. It's a rainy day, and they always make me downcast. There was this old box, and it just needed to be shredded." "That's okay, sweet girl. that box wasn't needed anymore, and you can shred it up. Would it be okay if I joined you? Into each life some rain must fall." "Sure, dad. Maybe it will make you feel better, too."
|It's December, and no one asked if we were ready.|
After dinner, the White Dog Army likes to relax and take pre-walk naps while I get a little more work time in. When it's time to wrap up work for the evening, everyone stretches, yawns, and gradually comes back to wakefulness. Roman prefers to sleep by the entrance to the kitchen, which can become a little congested as multiple dogs start to gather in that spot.
"Ah dear Lilly," I sighed, "the days are short and the nights are long. Even the roadrunners go to bed early. We need to hold each other tight and take comfort in each other's arms. Let's finish walks, have some delicious bedtime treats, and cuddle together. We can remember all the happy times we spent with Momma. That will make us feel better."
"Okay, dad, I guess that's a good reason," sighed Opal. "Just let us know when it's walk time. I don't go on walks, but I need to supervise the walkers."