Wednesday, Lilly’s grandma ended up in the emergency room and then the cardiac intensive care unit. This isn’t our first time at this kind of medical scare. These hospital stays mean lots of time away from the house, and I miss my Lilly girl. She misses me too.
Pressures of modern life — be they related to work, families, political climate, or global catastrophes — make a girl wish she could simply float away for a while and get a break from the grind. Yet, whether you face short, intense challenges or the death-by-a-million-cuts reality of lingering problems, the trick (as far as I can tell) is to stay put.
We’ve long established that Lilly, our canine heroine, responds to every shift around her. That’s true at home. It’s true when we’re out in public. It’s true in the various dog training classes we take. Yet, Lilly responds to different emotions in different ways. She finds sadness much less “scary” than frustration or anger or generalized grumpiness.
Maybe I look like I’m holding my breath a lot, but people often remind me to BREATHE amid all the stress that continues unabated, going on 15 months now. I guess that’s why I noticed that Lilly and I got into bellows-like rhythm last week and pretended we were breathing relaxation into both of us.
Lately, I wish I had one of those charging mats. You know, those things that you just lay your electronics upon and like magic they get charged back up. Maybe I could retool a scat mat. Well, that is, if I had the skill.
