I started my day cuddling my bride, our old dog, and our new puppy. Our old dog has been struggling with our new addition and has felt a little displaced. He was so very happy this morning and has been laying on top of my feet since I sat down with my notebooks and journal to begin my day. I love this dog.
The newest addition to our home continues to inspire. She also continues to get so excited she forgets she’s supposed to go to the bathroom outside or on her puppy pad.
Part of my new morning routine involves being awoken about 45 minutes earlier than I used to by a wonderful little ball of fluff who is trying very hard to be a good girl.
I surprised my bride with a puppy for her birthday. Her name is Whimsy.
Today’s poem is definitely inspired by her and ran a little longer than usual.
The Puppy Machine
Someone was going up and down the stairs outside our apartment the other night and our dog was on high alert!
My bride and I got up early this morning and drove to one of the more secluded stretches of beach with our dog to watch the sunrise. It’s hard to say which of the three of us enjoyed the experience more.
I often heard my father pray to God growing up that God would make him “like a puppy with a rag.” Overcome by joy in the simplest things.
A Puppy with a Rag
Another double post. Got yesterday’s poem written in my notebook but didn’t have the chance to share it. So here is that poem first, followed by today’s.
Sometimes we have an utterly irrational emotion overcome us. It’s a humbling experience because we know it’s irrational and it doesn’t change a thing. In fact, the knowing serves to exacerbate the problem by creating a feeling of helplessness. Art, poetry, writing, these are the tools of release and catharsis and they work wonders.
Storm in a Bottle
My dog has had an absolutely wonderful day today and only needs one thing to make it complete. Pretty sure he’s going to get it.
Good Dog’s Good Day
Once again inspiration struck when I didn’t have my notebook on me and I had to resort to writing yesterday’s poem on scrap paper. I transcribed it into my poetry notebook this morning before writing today’s poem.
Yesterday I left my bride and my dog in Houston. Nobody’s especially thrilled about it, least of all my puppy. He’s a rescue and has severe anxiety attacks every time he sees a suitcase being packed. He knows it means a trip and that it’s not going to be a quick ride in the car. He gets both desperate and excited and it’s him that inspired yesterday’s poem. Kind of hurt to write it out. I’m missing him and my bride today.
This morning’s poem comes from my ever frenetic attempts at organization and prioritizing. There’s always more to do. And now after that. Beauty of life. When it runs out, there’s no life left. Even so, I feel like I’m sending my brain spiraling around inside my own skull sometimes.
I love my dog. Poor puppy was feeling extraordinarily needy today. I couldn’t turn around without tripping over him. I think most dog owners can relate to this experience.