When Small Is Good

Someone once said that good things came in small packages, I can attest to that when it comes to the four-footed one. She’s the size of a shoebox and weighs next to nothing, but oh my, when you consider all the good she has brought to my life, it is priceless.

Someone else once said that into every life, a little rain must fall. Don’t ask me what constitutes as little as my definition of little may not match yours. I’m not a fan of the daily rainfall that Beloved is used to, and thus for me, it is too much. For him, it is just right.

If the four-footed one had her way, it would never rain. She may settle for a light sprinkle on hot days, but other than that, she does not need the rain. She does, however, need small packages. In the form of treats and small toys. She needs small packages of pats and belly rubs, scratches and nose bops.

I could settle for a small package of chocolates right now while the four-footed one is curled tight against me. I know the chocolate won’t ease the pain, but some times you just need a little pick me up.

A Hilly Thing

The four-footed one reminds me that life is what you make of it.  It’s partially how you see things, how reality works and mostly how you react and respond based upon the reality you’ve been given.  The four-footed one, it would seem believes she is a huge work-beast rather than a dog smaller than a shoe box.

Today while we were out for a our daily walk. the four-footed companion decided she needed to run.  But not just run.  That would be simple.  Instead she decided to run while dragging me behind her because I foolishly held onto her leash.  While she ran.  Pulling me up the hill after her.

Why?  Because she thinks she’s a work horse or something.  And also she seems to think I enjoy running up hills with her.  Or maybe she thinks I need to run up hills with her.  I’m not exactly sure.

The only thing I’m really sure about is that I am not in need of running up hills while having my arm tugged because I need to hold onto a leash.  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could pass on that and still be okay. But it makes her happy.  And her being happy make me happy.  Although why running up a hill makes her happy is beyond me.

But when we think we are something other than how reality sees us and we can prove ourselves to be more than that, well maybe we just get happy.  I’d think about it more, except I need to make sure that my arm remains in its socket!