Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Worth



Vegas and I have the knowledge that we are loved. This is a blessing - not everyone has this (dogs or people). Isn't that sad? My childhood in the flat land of Indiana and then the hot flat land of Florida was wonderful. Poached eggs on toast cut into nine little squares (Mom); watching football games after mowing the lawn (to this day cut grass reminds me of watching football with my Dad); playing swim tag in the pool (brothers) - I knew I was loved.

That being said, I have a fundamental core belief that there is something basically wrong with me. I think with age it's gotten better. In my youth it was paralyzing. I was very friendly to everyone (read Golden Retriever) but terrified that if anyone really knew my weirdness they would run the other direction. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one in the world that feels this way. So I kept/keep most of my perceived weirdness in.

Except for the dogs. The dogs get to experience 100% of my weirdness (As does the other human in my life which I completely don't understand but am endlessly grateful for). And they like it. They love when I lay in the dirt and mud so I can get a picture of them with a tennis ball under the hostas. They love that I think the dog park is a good idea even when it's forty degrees and the wind is blowing. Vegas especially loves that I will sneak her in the pool when the rest of the pack is out on a walk and then we act like, "Who went swimming? What are you talking about?"

I think the thing people struggle with, that our smarter four legged dogs don't, is that we often think that what makes us different, makes us bad, or less than. It doesn't. It's what makes us sparkle and shine.

Vegas, the Golden Retriever, has never worried that there is something wrong with her. She runs up to every stranger like THEY are their long, lost human. Vegas singularly can bring a house to it's knees by her insistent barking when there is a swimming pool taunting her. Vegas has a swagger in her walk; big, big kisses and paws the size of lion's feet. She is in a word, glorious - in all her one of kind way.

Molly, Sadie and Vegas have all loved me and taught me that who I am is enough. Even on the days when I don't feel it.

I love the rescue dogs.



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" ...