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Let sleeping dogs lie. That’s what I’m thinking as I look at Latte snuggled next to me. She is flexing her toes and readjusting herself from being curled up into a basketball to stretching like an archer’s bow.

Java is curled up next to Steve on the loveseat. She appears to be enjoying the blanket I draped over one end of the furniture in my sad attempt to have the folds of material hang just so and cover up the hole Latte chewed through the leather. The wood frame is exposed on the side, the hole gaping big enough to swallow my cat Shy.

The two dogs are lying so still, I’m thinking I should take advantage of the situation and draw them, but experience tells me that they will certainly move before I’m even a quarter done. Not that their movement makes any real difference in the quality of my artwork…

Java is beginning to dream, eyes fluttering under her lids, her breath quickening and coming out in soft whimpers, while Latte lies dreamless, her battles fought during waking times…

My Caffeinated Girls

Latte is one of those dogs
The kind that breaks into 
A mad, blurry dash 
Spinning wildly
On the living room rug 
Run into the bedroom
Her nails making alarming sounds
As claws rip into carpet
Jumping onto a neatly made bed
She can transform blankets and pillow 
Into a wild and wave-tossed sea
Then back to the living room
Then the bedroom
Grab a hunk of Java’s tail
As she runs on past
Black tufts of fluff
Fly through the air 
Java joins the chase
Grinning at the game
Then watching and waiting 
To see what happens next 
Java, the conserver of energy
The one who can bring the chase
To a grinding, skidding halt
With a mere growl and a snap
There comes a lowered Latte
A paw extended in peace
An ear and face lick
If Java please
“Apology accepted?” Latte asks
Then it starts 
All over again
Until Latte runs 
All of the bees 
Out of her bonnet 
And stands, 
Suddenly still, 
Panting and smiling 
A doggish, toothy grin
Looking expectantly
As if waiting for applause

(Latte to the left, in a quieter moment, Java on the right)

– Cross-posted on Vision and Verb

Okay, I rarely post more than once a week anymore, but I can not keep such weather joy to myself. I must share! My drive home from work:

The dogs have a better attitude about it.

The snow-fall hoods me round;
In wood and water, earth and air,
A silence everywhere.

— Loreena McKennitt, “Snow”

A bit of Christmas tune towards the end, but such a beautiful voice… it does drive the cold winter away

I cannot know what this time, this circumstance, a loss, a gain is going to mean to the entirety of my life. Why do I waste so much time resisting my circumstances instead of looking with eyes that see neither negative or positive but just go ahead and live each moment as though it is exactly where I should be?

Do you know how it is when you meet someone and you just know you’ll be friends? Or you apply for a job that is exactly what you’ve been looking for? Or you move to a new place and something clicks and you are so happy because it just feels so right and so perfect?

And you just know this is exactly where you are supposed to be and these are the people you are supposed to be with!

Then maybe years down the road, something changes — there are layoffs at work, a friend moves away, you have to relocate to find another job — whatever it is, the change of something that was SO perfect can leave you dazed and uncertain.

How can this perfect thing, this thing that was meant to be change?!

Was I totally wrong and it was never right in the first place? Can I not trust my instinct, that gut feeling that sometimes hits me so strong?

And sometimes, when one thing falls away, I think, “Okay, I give up. Forget the country, cowgirl thing! Or the half-ass settling for being a suburban, gardening, chicken wrangler! I’m going to move to an apartment in the city, wear dresses and high heels, and trade in all my old, antique, wood furniture for unblemished, no history or memories, modern glass and plastic edgy stuff! Yup. That’s what I’m going to do.”

Until I look at it from my higher place out in the snow and pine trees. Stopping and standing to feel the sun and take in the quiet and breath.

And then I get down low.
Because there is wisdom down close to the ground too.
Where I see a tug of war.
A struggle.
Such confusion!

To want something so bad and feel like someone else has what you want.
Or is taking the one good thing you had going for you! And certainly, there isn’t enough to go around.

Or is there?

If all else fails,
– stop –
– look –
High, low
and in between

Most likely
you’ll find something
or just plain weird.

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