Safe Places

Fletch is a little bit fearless.  He doesn’t understand gravity, which is why he keeps trying to wriggle out of my arms when I’m carrying him.  He’s not afraid of eating sharp things, gross things, or wet things.  He holds his own while frolicking with dogs of any size. He has never met a stranger.

On the other hand, he’s a cream puff if he hears a dog bark in someone else’s yard, and goes running for the porch.  He is a giant whiner in the car, but only when the car is moving.  He’s also terrified of my guitar.  I played it for fifteen seconds the other day and he skittered under a chair and howled. (I’m not good, but I’m not that bad.)

He wakes up exactly like I do, which is not very well.  He alternates between “Seriously? Why are you not moving fast enough? RISE AND SHINE, CUPCAKE!”  and “OMG for REAL, would you just go back to BED so I can SLEEP 20 more minutes in this comfy CRATE? Why is the LIGHT on?” He does ok at night, although we do more getting up in the dark than I’d like, which is not at all.

He’d been here about a week, and I was worried about whether he was missing his litter and whether he was freaked out about being my dog and me being his person, when he crawled into his crate, rolled over and went belly up, and fell asleep chewing on his giraffe.  I thought, okay, he must like it alright here. He must feel pretty safe, if he’s already napping belly-up.


It’s been a topsy-turvy stretch, and it’s nice to see a little safe haven, and someone enjoying it.  In the last ten-days, one friend lost a family member, then there was the tragedy in Connecticut, then another friend’s job was suddenly eliminated, and now my boss is in intensive care after a massive stroke.  Nothing feels very safe.  Nothing feels very certain. Sometimes change comes faster than you want it, and not at all on your own terms.

It feels like a good time to hold the people I love close, and appreciate that we’re safe and whole, and remember every day that I can’t take any of that for granted. None of the usual holiday drama has bothered me this year.  There are far more important things in focus.

There is a baby dog asleep on my lap.  Be safe and well, y’all.

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2 Responses to Safe Places

  1. Tracy says:

    Nodding along with all you say, as usual, and right back at ya with that safe and well part. Merry Christmas to you and yours. : )

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