She breaks past the fence or just notices it open. I never catch what happens immediately before I see her coming at me. Just there she is and if it wasn't quiet it would take me longer to become aware of her. Of that dance she does. Like a Charleston with a hop forward.
offering her head.
the quiet helps me see her for the dog she is. or soul. the soul she is.
I have to say that is soul, something inside where I can't deny belief. where the music is.
in the quiet I take my thumb and run it up the bridge of her nose, in between those eyes and my entire hand takes her head in a massage.
in the quiet she looks at me with the most pleading of eyes and she knows I can't stop what I'm doing because I'm typing or researching or reading or solving a puzzle or listening to music or thinking or locking myself out of the house in the greatest accident ever. if there are no accidents then something is trying to make me survive. but then I do. I stop to rub her head. in the quiet.
what she says is. I love to be loved. love me.
and I do because I can't help myself.
I can't help but love her.
because love is the only help anyone ever needed when they were born. just loved.
that's what we are here for.
or that's what Josie says.
Today I am grateful for the leaves falling into the pool, that the frog was still alive. the pizza. the football games. the key. a day with no plans. 'cause I can love a day as well.
Also. I love the way Leonard thinks.