Dance

Dogs are energy junkies. They'll feed off of whatever energy surrounds them. My girls are no exception to this canine rule. If I'm sad or angry, they sense this on some primal level and either steer clear of me or lick my tears away in an effort to console me. The pack must be maintained at all costs - emotional balance must return!

My first thoughts this morning were that I was sore. Physically twisted and sore. I must've contorted myself into some horrifically awkward sleeping position. Either that, or some mischievous creature had bashed me with a baseball bat and left me for dead. Nevertheless, not an ideal way to jump start the work week. So I decided to make gym time for myself before work.

What a change in attitude! I came home revitalized, energized and just plain happy. I put on my "Mamma Mia!" soundtrack (which I recommend for an immediate pick me up if gym time is not possible) and danced with the dogs. Yup, I said it. I danced with my girls. They hopped around with their front paws in my hands as I danced. Tongues lolling, tails wagging. They could feel my energy and fed freely, like little furry psychic vampires.

I know some of you are rolling your eyes in disgust..."she's such a dog psycho!". Say what you will, there's nothing like sharing happiness with someone (or something) that reflects it back in spades. No pretensions, no embarrassment, no "what will they think". Unabashed happiness. What a pure, beautiful thing.