The Rhythm of the Ocean

On Mondays I work in the afternoons, so I get to sleep in.  Matt is working from home now so he scooted T off to school and let the dogs sleep in with me.  I opened my eyes to realize I had all 3 dogs curled around me on the bed.  The room was dark, and I could feel their proximity and feel their chests rise in rhythmic waves.  I thought of the ocean and how driven we are to it.  For so many reasons we're driven to the ocean, but that ebb and flow of the water is the enormous breathing of some great big being; the breathing of our great planet.  The tie that beckons and binds is that interconnectedness.    

I didn't want to let the world in on this moment. I was caught in that cloud of sleep that fogs the break of day.  I wanted to close my eyes and resume my own breathing, another rhythm to join the three.  I reached out and found fur which wriggled under my palm, but fell again into that rhythm in seconds.   I wanted to close my eyes with the tightness of sleep, and forget all the preoccupations and responsibilities of the day and the week beyond.  I tried to fool my body back into sleeping.  I tried to snuggle in deeper to the warm press of Fenway's tiny body.  I tried to relax my palm on Nyxie's soft fur, but stroked it instead.  

It was no use.  My brain was awake, the fog was lifting, my eyes were focusing and the rhythm of my own breathing was just a hair faster than the three beside me.  I stretched and pulled myself out of the ocean of sleep.  It's those moments of safety and rhythm and balance that feed the rest.  As I stretched, the dogs came alive beside me, each stretching and yawning and nuzzling one another as they do each morning.  Then the dance begins.  That dance of joy that celebrates that we've made it through the night together and now there will be feasting!  

"Hooray for a new day!"

I have so much to learn from the three...

The Gift

"It's so weird not having her right here"

That's when they point to the ground right behind them, or tap their hip, signaling the place where their pup can usually be found.  I hear this so often when a person reflects on their dog being absent from home.   It's the most common thing people admit when their dog has passed away, has been at the clinic overnight to recuperate from surgery, or the owner has been on vacation.

We've had a recent run of sad outcomes lately.  Diagnoses that end in tears and gut-wrenching decisions.  It's tough not to reflect on your own pack and consider their roles in your life.

I find it's the proximity you miss.  The knowledge that you're not alone, that one of the pack is right there.  It's good to feel that someone, however fuzzy, has "your back".  That you're not alone, even when there isn't another human for miles.  We all have that driving pack mentality, like it or not.  I think the pack gene might be stronger in some of us, though...

On this Memorial Day, I've been considering the guardians of our greater pack - working dogs and their handlers.  We owe them so much.  Because of them, we're not alone.  Someone strong, powerful and fearless has "our back"

Look around and appreciate your pack today.  Each day is a gift to celebrate that bond, precious time, and lives spent well.