What a wonderful weekend - full of visiting family and old friends in a far away, exotic place called Indiana. I never tire of driving through the Midwest - the farms, the fields, the cows and horses; New red barns, ghostly old brown ones - all staring at me as I drive by. I hadn't been back in the summer for a while and I was relieved that it was for the most part unchanged. I love that we still did the same old things like the cookout, croquet, running, holding the baby, fireworks and just hanging out. I love that these traditions and people are here and I do not take them for granted.
Upon my return, Vegas and Molly greeted me with typical retriever joy. Vegas talks. I sit down on the floor and get eye level with her. She takes her big, lion shaped paws and places them on my shoulders and then places her head on mine and tries to tuck me under her chin. Then, "Wooooo wooooo woooo wooooo" she squeaks. Vegas will not relent until she is done saying her peace. I lie there patiently, "wooooo woooooing" back to her. And then she's up and off, smiling back, knowing that she has spoken in my language and I've heard her completely. I may not have understood, but I listened.
May we all find the friend that speaks our language and listens with their heart.
May my baby brother have the best, birthday ever!
Buddy
Buddy the black lab. My parent’s older of two black labs. Mom named Buddy shortly after he came to live with us. Why "Buddy" ...
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