Skip to main content

Stray

It all started one day on the walk home from the grocery store. My son picked up a stick off the ground that vaguely resembled a dog on a leash and he proceeded to walk "it" home.  He insisted on having me do "the voice".  All the way home, his new friend told him about his life up in the trees and his abrupt relocation to the ground and to a new neighbourhood.  The stray stick explained that he was excited to move to a new neighbourhood that he had only smelled before and heard about through the trees.  My son promised his new charge that he had two kitties at home and that they would all have a lot of fun together.

When we got to the Pride Parade the other day, the stick obediently waited up against a building while we enjoyed the parade, and then we gingerly walked him through the crowds, careful not to poke out any eyes on the way back home.

This morning, he found yet another little guy who also has a very good knack for smelling his destination.  He told my son that he could smell ladybugs and yellow shirts (I have a yellow shirt!), bagels (they have bagels at my preschool!) and angry bird toys (I have one in my pocket!). I was made to promise to collect his stick on my way out the door of preschool and take him to work.  "Don't worry, you can sleep at mama's work".

I have come to learn a lot through these stick dog mediated talks.  I have learned what fun can be had for sticks and boys at home (they are all living it up under the porch) and what my work is like (there is some lego there) and what daycare is like (you can sleep and eat there, but I'm not allowed to sleep.)

Dog sticks are loyal and make walking fun, especially ones who can detect that distinct smell of angry bird toys.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Keep telling yourself that.

We talk to ourselves everyday, all day (and night) for the whole of our lives. We started talking to ourselves before we knew we were a self, we forget what we said because we forget everything from before...when we were too young and busy developing our brain to remember those early years. There is still lingering residue of long forgotten conversations I have had with myself as a toddler sitting around in the crevices...sloughing off occasionally into words I tell myself still.   We talk non-stop, and not just with dialogue.  Our goosebumps communicate to us, our tingly feelings, our neurons, our peripheal vision.  They are all submitting data into our self and expecting us to react, respond or all to often, expecting what they are sending us will be ignored. After all that talking, you'd think we'd know what we think about most things, but occasionally we are stumped.  Unless we stop what we are doing and really concentrate sometimes that voice(s) ...
1 comment
Read more

the words fell out

 Despite being an introvert, I do often process big life events (and many many small ones) out loud by verbally hashing out my thoughts with whoever will put up with me. But this morning when I woke up to the big red blotch on the U.S. map...all my /the words fell out.  They fell out unsaid, unformed. Got to work and probably , in another time, would have annoyed my co-workers, dominating the conversation with my verbal extrusions, but not today. I just mutely stared across at them and nodded. My dad came for lunch.  Normally, we relish a good political diatribe, especially when we feel sure of our perspective, but this time, all I could do was munch on fries and marvel at all the unarticulated thoughts that I was not even bothering to retrieve. The silence inside me was noticeable.  Social media was awash with reactions and I just looked away. I couldn't bear to read one word about it. I was not receptive to any reactions,  accusations, reflections,  words...
Post a Comment
Read more

I entered August without you.

 I won't visit you this month.  You won't call. I will raid your garden and you won't get any of the vegetables. I will make plans without telling you about them. We'll go to the store and not buy you one single thing. Whole books will be read and I will not tell you which ones. I will watch movies and not inform you. The nasturiums will ripen. Last month was different. I changed my schedule and took time off work to be with you.   I dropped all kinds of plans for us to be together. You sent me messages, I received them. I picked up food that I thought you would like at the store and sent you pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. I sang with you. We watched the Great Canadian Baking Show. You chose the recipe for the garlic scape pesto and gave me instructions for making the gooseberry jam. I am in August without you. You are in July.
1 comment
Read more