The Dog Behind the Chain-Linked Fence

On Sunday, my son, husband and I ventured out for a walk around the neighbourhood despite the rainy, overcast day.  As we walked past the tree seed farm a friendly looking dog kept pace with us trapped inside the chain-linked fence, which enclosed the farm.  He looked anxious to escape these confines and did not seem to belong there as he was definitely not of guard-dog caliber. 

 

After much searching along the fence, my son found a small hollow in the dirt.  The dog tried to squish through this depression under the fence but did not quite fit.  He withdrew and watched intently as my son started digging the hole with his hands.  The dog quickly followed suit and after a minute or two of joint effort the dog’s next attempt was successful – Eureka! 

 

Instead of running happily home the dog started following us around.  Twenty minutes later, still having a dog-shadow, we became concerned that the dog might be lost.  We discovered a phone number on his tag and after phoning discovered that his owner had, indeed, been searching for her missing dog.  We gave her the coordinates of a nearby landmark and then started heading that way.  As we approached our destination a car pulled up.  Out jumped an astonished woman.  She was incredulous that her dog had wandered so far from home.  The dog jumped into the car as the woman expressed her gratitude. We continued walking home with a wonderful warm glow.  Our ordinary walk had turned into an extraordinary experience – the chance to do a good deed!

My Lunch-Time Walk

As usual on my lunch-time walk I saw him peering at me from the tall wheat-coloured grass.  I was always surprised by the incongruence of his lone presence in the big dry field set amongst the many green fields brimming with horses.  With his long neck and tiny head I pictured him as an albino dinosaur on some prehistoric plain.  Or perhaps a gigantic slug.

 

But forget his appearance – what was he thinking as his head swiveled to keep me in view?  Was I prey or predator, friend or foe?  Did he imagine me as being some other type of creature just as I had imagined him to be?  Did he want a friend – was he lonely all by himself?  I would forever wonder as I walked past the solitary llama.

The Pink Lady

As I crunched into the flesh of the Pink Lady the blast of sweet tartness filled my mouth.  My shocked taste buds recoiled at the intensity.  I changed my strategy.  Gently I sucked on the dislodged chunk and savoured the tangy flavour. 

 

After my puckered mouth gradually acclimatized to the unexpected sourness I tentatively took another bite.  Ahhh, the jolt was a little less this time – happily I devoured the rest of the apple.

Gratitude Testimonial to My Sister

When we were young we fought like cats and dogs.  I remember the feeling of the cold linoleum as we wrestled on the floor and the feel of my sister’s body wrapped around mine.  Strangely we loved this fighting.  Our mother tried a few times to stop us and we would fiercely yell at her, “Go away, this is none of your business, we like this!” as we grabbed at each other’s bodies.  Finally she got the message and left us alone to our skirmishes. 

 

Though our fights were usually physical, sometimes they were emotional – not the usual name-calling, but a more sophisticated taunting, such as “I know something that you don’t know and I’m not going to tell you”.  I guess we both had strong curiosities and this not-knowing was a form of torture.  Despite all the fighting we loved each other dearly and stood up for each other. Woe to the person who dared to lay a hand on one of us – only we were allowed to abuse each other!

 

Through the opportunity of expressing all our emotions about each other freely and completely we grew to know and understand each other very well.  As we matured into this greater understanding of each other, the fighting just fell away, no longer necessary.  We developed a strong, intimate bond that served us well through our teen-aged years.

 

I so looked forward to my nightly bed-time ritual in the bathroom!  Not the washing of my face or the brushing of my teeth, but the sharing of the day with my beloved sister.  We were alone together in our own sanctuary – no one would interrupt the confiding of our intimate secrets here.  And it was a joy to unburden my heart to her as my sister was totally supportive and accepting of everything I revealed to her.  The “ups” of teen-aged life obviously got even better in the sharing, but so, surprisingly did the “downs”.   In the sharing we would laugh and cry together and any pain was always eased.  I considered myself so lucky to have a sister that I could share my heartfelt self with intimately and honestly and be accepted for who I was.  I loved that precious time together and all that we shared and I love my sister.