I heard my mom joking with my dad today about what it is I do in the bay window. Silly people. What is there I can’t do in that window, which I see as one of my most special places in this world? I can observe the general happenings of the neighborhood, nap in the sun, and guard my people’s property when I see any type of unwelcome intruder. The latter has never happened, but I often daydream of my chance to save my people from danger, so it remains in my doggie dreamscape.
I don’t know about any other doggies out there, but having a bay window at my disposal is pretty much the bees knees in terms of specialty dog moments. Albeit, I know it was not created specially for me, but I can’t help but think of it as one of those special (unexpected) gifts life occasionally grants us.
The bay window is my window to life outside. I see it as one of my emotional safe havens because it brings my fear to purpose. I am safely inside, where I know I belong. And I have visual domain over the outside, which I wish to protect from intruders. My time in the window is special to me. Priceless, one might say.
So you can imagine my thoughtfulness today when mom started singing the all-too-familiar song: “How much is that doggie in the window there? The one with the waggly tail?”
My thoughts were unexpectedly brought to purpose today when she stopped herself mid-song to say I am absolutely priceless in their lives. The moment reminded me a bit of an old-school Visa commercial, but I can’t say I minded. In fact, I found myself mentally joining in the silliness:
Three extra-large containers of peanut butter: $12.
Two packages of my favorite breath buster treats: $10.
Time with my people: priceless.
How much is that doggie in the window? Priceless? Heaven knows that hasn’t always been the case in past experience. What a blessing to be called something so sacred.