The One With the Waggly Tail? Priceless. April 14, 2013

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.

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A Playful Trip to Paradise February 3, 2013

Today I was listening to Chris Martin of Coldplay sing about a girl dreaming of paradise and it occurred to me I would have a tough time picking just one “happy place.” For some, it is sitting on a white, sandy beach blissfully staring into the blue abyss of the ocean. Others would prefer to rock climb up a nameless waterfall in the outback.

Playing catch in my backyard and or wrestling with my pals dog park pop into my mind as obvious choices, but that seems too easy. And (as it usually does) digging a little deeper led me down a surprising path of self discovery. As I thought more about it, I found myself in awe of the idea that we all have the power to construct our own version of paradise in our minds. Paradise looks different to everyone, which is what I would argue makes it so special. Happiness resides in this place, allowing its creator to be his or her true authentic self.

I know I have more than one of these places in my life. But if I had to pick just one, it would definitely be a combination of dreams and reality because (if you ask me) that is one of the many impressive things the mind can accomplish.

I do my best thinking on paper, so I dream myself a writing room.

It has no shortage of plush couches, fluffy pillows and blankets that smell deliciously like my forever home. My favorite music would be on a constant stream reverberating off the walls, which would be covered with pictures of my family and the written words of all those who inspire me. There would be a big bay window with another set of comfy pillows on the sill. At first, I pictured myself solo in this philosophically inspiring writing room. I saw myself alone with my thoughts.

Then today happened and reminded me of the role my reality plays in my dreams. Today was an action-packed day filled with treats, hugs and loved ones who never cease to inspire me. No, I would not chose to be alone with my thoughts in my writing room. I would choose to be surrounded with people and pets who love and support me and my writing.

I honestly can’t picture a paradise better than that.