Wishing on a Wishbone

It is not Easter, not Christmas we were just in the mood for it; a home style Tom the turkey dinner. The smell wafts outside the house as I drive back into the cracked old driveway from a jaunt with the pup and my sister.

Our 75 year old house, with all its flaws and character is one of the best places to drive up to.

The roof may not be perfectly straight, but the shingles keep us dry; the cement may be cracked and I can tell you how and which winter that took its toll on it. The large windows are inviting and scenic; the old house says come on in and welcome, when it is full of family and friends.

The old grass may need love and attention each year, yet it welcomes me each spring along with the flowerbeds of perennials peaking through the dirt, hedges growing tall and trees holding our bird feeders to keep our feathery friends happy.

The pup is experimenting with her digging skills and I am grateful that I have large groups of flowers and plants; I should have some left when she is done with her adaptation to our yard.

The old red shed, houses my planting gear and all the seasonal goodies to make the place look grand and festive.

The day was one of thankfulness; with opportunity and lessons being learned all around.

New outside toys were purchased, training was going well and someone is exhausted from running through the paths all over the yard.

Frisbees flew through the air and some were caught; balls were scattered across the yard in every colour. It was a day for gratefulness. Time didn’t fly by, it casually sauntered and allowed me the time I needed for appreciation.

My alone time has been somewhat neglected as we adjust to the new member of our family, but we seem to be making strides with cats not having their noses out of joint and becoming acquaintances of their new sister.

My patience some days, at the level of a saint, (Spook is laughing) and other days, exhausted and defeated, I have to remind myself the gratefulness of having a new dog.

The one animal who doesn’t see you for seconds and is excited to see you again and again. I am learning to remind myself that. She doesn’t care if I was sad or mad a couple minutes ago. If she nipped me and I told her no. She is so glad that I am there.

That love is grand and shows the size of a dog’s heart; it’s so caring, full, giving. If we all had one that big, we would complete amazing humanitarian items everyday for others.

We would not feel defeated, we would forget, we would strive for our best, and do it happy; I think I need to adapt the attitude of a dog; maybe even a tail wag once in a while for a laugh and to remind me to shake it. Look at life through the eyes of a dog.

As I sit here nursing my knee from the accident of saving my dog from running away, I think back after to that moment. I wrecked my pants, knee bloody, shoes broken and ripped, and the only thing I could think about was how I didn’t want to lose her; she was the most important thing, my companion.

I sit here listening to a group of birds chattering about their day and who had the best bird seed in the neighbourhood; I think I will just go limp a long and find my dog who is with Mr. Jones laying in the yard and give her a great big excited hello. I am so happy to see her too.

Our wishbone is calling for us to break it and as I think about it, even with all the flaws, my life is perfect the way it is. I will wish for what I always do, to be happy.

“With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy?” Oscar Wilde

Love always the skinned up, dog saving, I do need a cocktail now, Woman in Process










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