Maybe Anything

I’ve had a week of weirdness. Unrelated things and people converged. Like heavily collided. Like the Universe has picked me up, moved me a second and set me back in the exact same but more aware-ly connected place; same space.

Yep, I’m gonna vague the details. Broadly, though, I was up until 1:00 AM last night plunking keys trying to connect the linear lights, random thoughts and rigid letters into a sphere of a story.

I tried an hour of editing. Tried to respectfully cloak it in anonymity. You know – so the players won’t know. Tonight’s tweaking didn’t take it to where it truly needed to be. So, it’s still incubating and I’m not letting it go. Yet. Be kind to me. I’m still so up on it, 24 hours later. Hoppy, happily awed at the alignment.

Goose bump similar, going/coming back. Retro. I’m in it like 2007, when a series of well-planned, well-placed God-smack coincidences sent me missioning to New Orleans with 49 strangers. Yeah, it’s like that. He’s got a plan and I’m waiting for it, excited. I’m going somewhere. Maybe only metaphysically. Maybe long haul. Maybe temporary. Maybe anything…

Hyped-up; like downing a mega-coffee specialty cuppa on an empty stomach, at midnight. Sort of odd since I’m off coffee on doctor’s orders. Glad, I unknowingly had that last fling with the Cola-Cola concoction.

It’s day 5 of nothing from a cow, nothing with gluten. I’m the way opposite of withdrawal. Go figure.

Comically, I scrolled into a Starbuck’s “Want!” inducing ad. Pistachio. Latte. So desirable, I may have whimpered, but since Nala-Lala thought I was talking to her, I’m gonna go with that. Hey, Universe – do your thing. Make that potentially tasty run last a little while. Please.

Make this run last a little while, too, please. Something’s happening here, and it feels so good.

Thought for the Week:

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The Switch

I held the quiet girl for a little bit. She was content to stay there. Then I set in her down into my cross-legged lap. She was content to stay there. The other one was alternately exploring and then running back full speed that usually ended with him crashing into me.

Little Miss Mellow stood up at the sound of Jeff’s voice, reporting. “Well, they’re both healthy and vaccinated, that but one probably won’t go,” he said. “She’s the runt, and she looks different.” Her white fur was all-over dotted with rusty-reddish spots and a few large black and brown cow patches laid over. She looked like a regular JR to me.

I watched the other possibility tearing around performing frantic puppy antics, and glanced back down at the placid little lap dog. I scooped her up, handed her up to Jeff and lifted myself off the ground. He cradled her in his large arms, but she had other ideas. She crawled up his chest, snuggled up to his ear, offered a few licks, and with a serene sigh, closed her eyes.

We named her “Sadie.” There were a few other choices, but after a bit of name-calling testing that seemed to be the one she liked. Yes, we ‘asked’ her through testing and response rate. It was Jeff’s idea. He said it helps to name a dog something they’ll respond to.

Her name confused my mother a little. “I thought you said she was a girl,” she commented. “She is a girl,” I replied. “Oh, you know that’s Yiddish for ‘grandfather’ right?” she asked. “No, no,” I clarified, “Sadie! Not Zayde.” Jeff got a knee-slapping kick out of that.

She was sweet and social but strangely low-key. I mean veeerrrryyy low-key. She had a good appetite for such a petite pup. She stayed near us and moved at good walking pace whenever one of us left the room. She wasn’t a barker or a whiner and she had no interest in Miss Fred, at all.

She happily and quietly greeted me when I came home. Mostly, though, she followed Jeff. Mostly, because he was the one with her all day.

“I don’t think she’s normal,” I said to Jeff after she’d been with us a week.

“She’ll catch up,” he said. “Remember she’s the runt.”

Sadie’s first real play visitors were Jeff’s sister’s girl and boy. Used to having dogs of their own, the two got right down on the floor with her. Through the ear scratching and belly rubbing and tickling and the children making whelping puppy noises, Sadie widened her eyes, but stayed put.

She seemed confused, and didn’t seem like she was enjoying any of it all that much. I was just about to ask them to give her a break. Before I could get the words out, though, Sadie barrel-rolled away from them, jumped to her feet, gave a small hoarse bark (her first) and took off running. In between flat out sprints from one end of the house to the other, she’d circle the kids, drop to her front elbows and startle herself by barking.

Sadie’s hyper switch had been activated.

Quote for the Week:

2017 08 08 The Switch jakorte final

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