From A Three To A Four

A small scrap of wiggly fur poked out of Beloved’s pocket, causing the four-footed one to check it out. She sniffed him, climbed his leg, and peered into his pocket where the fur was.

When Beloved pulled the scrap of fur out of his pocket, he placed it in my hands. With a small little noise, the fur curled into a ball and seemed to settle in for a rest. It was warm and cute and impossibly small for a kitten.

Beloved said he found it on his walk, and although he didn’t much about kittens, he knew it was too small to be out alone, so he brought it home. The vet was closed for the day, so we were left to provide temporary care. The four-footed one seemed to understand the kitten needed us.

With the four-footed one in her bed, we settled the kitten next to her and held our breath. She let the kitten snuggle in against her and the two of them fell asleep. Beloved looked into what we could do for the kitten until the vet opened up, and I crossed my fingers we wouldn’t become too attached to the kitten.

The next morning the four of us headed to the vet’s clinic. Beloved had already nicknamed the kitten and decided if no one wanted her, she could live with us. The four-footed one had made sure the kitten was properly licked and smelled right. And that’s how we came to be from a group of three to a group of four.

Best Eaten, Not Worn

Have you ever put cucumber slices on your eyes? It is supposed to be refreshing and relaxing. It is supposed to help with dark circles and tired eyes, not to mention puffy eyes. People say it soothes dry and tired eyes.

How come no one mentions that dry, tired, sore eyes can sting when you put cucumber slices on your closed eyes? Instead, everyone tells you how wonderful and relaxing the experience is. Maybe the issue is with my eyes. Perhaps I am one of the few people who find that cucumber juice stings and is irritating.

Perhaps when I made the slices, I did something wrong Maybe I cut the slices too thick or too thin. Maybe the cucumber wasn’t ripe or too ripe. I don’t know, because I didn’t read up on it. I just sliced some cucumber from the fridge, closed my eyes, and put the slices over them.

A few seconds into the endeavor my eyes started to sting, but of course, that was the tiredness leaving them, right? What else could it be? Surely that weird itching feeling was just the dryness leaving my eyes. Not even a minute into this, I took the slices off my eyes and washed my face. Cucumbers, as far as I can tell, are best eaten, not worn.

Working For It Or Teasing Her

As I was stuffing blueberry cobbler bones into the four-footed one’s toy, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would feel about getting my treats this way. She doesn’t seem to mind having to flip and push her toy around to get the tiny treats, but I bet if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that it would be best to get the treats without any effort.

I certainly wouldn’t want to push a hard plastic disk around the floor, using my nose and paws to shake a treat free. Granted I can’t say that I want a small blueberry flavored cobbler bone for a treat either. A nice piece of opera cake is more to my liking.  

An opera cake should never be pushed into a plastic disk. An opera cake should be savored with a nice cup of coffee. Who wants to gobble this tasty magical delight off the carpeted floor? Not I!  

Is it right to justify that she enjoys the challenge? Is it nice to tell her to work for her treat when I don’t do the same for myself? Have we become those people when it comes to our dog? You know, the people who don’t want their dog to get bored? Am I overthinking it to compensate for the fact that I currently do not have a nice slice of opera cake?

The Easy Rest Of The Believer

A lion on a string rested against the overturned pillow. A flattened beaver dangled precariously over the arm of a chair. A blue bear was taking a lazy swim in the collapsible water bowl. And the four-footed one was resting on her cloth, not a care in the world to all the chaos she created.

I want to have that level of comfort in my life too. I want to know that if I create that kind of chaos, or make that big of a mess in life, I want to be able to rest easy from it just like she does.

I want the type of trust and faith in life that she has. She trusts that the blue bear will be removed when he’s had enough of his swim. She has faith that the beaver won’t plummet from heights and end up with a damaged squeaker in his head. She has faith that the lion won’t get tangled in the string or get upset about things.

She just knows, somehow, that things will be okay in her world and she can rest easy. That type of rest is priceless. Of course, making that type of mess is priceless too.

Something Is Nothing

Something, I can’t put my finger on it, has been off for a few days. Something is just a little different, and I am not a fan of it. I noticed today while Beloved had the television on. It seemed absurdly loud. No matter how often he turned it down, it still seemed loud and annoying.

The four-footed also seemed to notice that things weren’t right when we went out for our walk. She would pause and sniff the air now and then. She would start to walk in one direction only to circle back and head in another direction.

If Beloved noticed what was wrong, or if he sensed that something was off, he kept it to himself. He said nothing and appeared to be unaware of anything. He kept himself occupied in the kitchen or watching the television while the four-footed one and I tried to find a place to calm down and find peace.

Peace, it would seem, also sensed something was off and wouldn’t stay with us. We read a book, well tried to, but weren’t successful. We listened to music, but it never felt right. The four-footed one even tried to nap but was unable to get comfortable enough to settle in.

Hopefully, whatever this is, it leaves soon because this isn’t fun. It would be better, I guess if at least Beloved also sensed it.

A Rattle To Hum About

I feel as though I’ve come out of a whirlwind of sorts. Not literally of course. However, it seems as though I’ve spent the last few days swirling around in the midst of one.

Between meetings and time traveling around, I feel as though I lost track of hours when really I have been too preoccupied to notice the passage of time. To show for the passage of time, I have a sore neck, stiff fingers, and no idea what day of the week it is. Oh, and I have a rattle.

The sore neck is an old friend from years spent with my head in books or at a computer. Let me be clear, this isn’t the type of friend I look forward to visiting, but I understand it. The stiff fingers are that old type of friend as well. The rattle, however, is new.

After spending weeks meeting with a healer, one who spoke to me as if I wasn’t there, experience new and unusual things, I was presented with a rattle that is supposed to guide me in making decisions. Who knows, maybe it will. For now, it sits carefully wrapped on a shelf away from the four-footed one. It is one of a few honored and treasured gifts I have received while learning and working with healers. Even if I never use the rattle, or have a full understanding of it, the power of the gift will be carried with me no matter where I go or what I experience.

Just A Game? 

The four-footed one has a new game she likes to play.  We refer to it as ‘tormenting the humans’, although I’m fairly certain she calls is something like ‘Such Fun’!   To us this is anything but fun.  The game consists of us telling her it is time to go and she finds the smallest place to hide in.  Small, low to the ground, and most importantly, impossible for us to fit into.  

The game surely has points, and from how she plays I have to assume the harder the hiding place is to reach, the higher the points.  There are no doubt other points to acquire, such as the more awkward it is for the human to reach inside, the greater the points.  And naturally, extra points are awarded based on the duration she stays in her place.

I’m not sure how she figured out this game, or how it started, but it now a daily favorite of hers.  

We’ve tried to bribe her o of her spot, we’ve tried to threaten to leave her behind, and we’ve even begged her to stop.  We aren’t the least bit successful with any of these approaches.  I guess you could say she runs the house and you’d be absolutely right.

It is a frustrating habit, especially when we are in a hurry to go somewhere with her such as the vet.  For the record, we don’t mention the word when we are going there.  We just tell her we are going out and does she want to come for a ride.  And now she just hides.  

If this continues, I may have to take up my own version of this game!