Wiley's Wisdom

Joy: From the Ground Up

The Diaper Bag Lady March 15, 2015

I’m just glad I wasn’t there to see it happen. Well, that, and for how the story ended. Fortunately, I was able to skip to the last chapter without reading the rest of the book. Usually that’s not how I like to do things, but in this case it was a blessing.

Mom lost something today. Something incredibly important to her. It’s probably going to sound pretty silly, but that’s not always the worst thing. Apparently she left her diaper bag in the cart at Target. She loaded the bags into the car, and got dear baby Carter all settled and somehow forgot to add the diaper bag to the list of things to put in the car before driving away. It only took about 10 minutes for her to realize it, but a lot could happen in that amount of time. Mom and Wiley

So when the people at Target recognized her (from security cameras I guess) as “the diaper bag lady” upon her return, she cried. Not just a tear or two either. We’re talking full on bawl baby crying. They had the bag. All was well.

Hearing the story reminded me to pause and be grateful. Not just for the obvious things in life, but for the good people you may only encounter once. Especially as mom navigates this thing called pregnancy for a second time, she needs all the help she can get. And as hard as I may try, it can’t all come from me.

So the people that saw mom forget the diaper bag in the cart and did the right thing: thank you. I know she has a lot on her mind.

To the stranger who offered to pick up Carter’s teether at the grocery store: thank you. I know she’s starting to have a harder time bending over these days.

To dad, who woke up early with Carter today so mom could sleep in: thank you. I know sleep eludes her lately.

To a teething terror of a toddler I know and love as Carter, who took two solid naps yesterday: thank you. That hasn’t been happening lately, and your timing was nice since it allowed mom and dad a little time together.

From what I can tell, pregnancy isn’t an easy ordeal. And mom likes to pretend she’s always got it all together. But I know she needs help sometimes, and it’s not always something I can do. So thank you to the good people out there. You know who you are.

 

So Happy Together June 2, 2014

It is honestly probably one of the last words I would have ever thought would be used to describe me. But apparently it’s true. I’ve heard more than one person say it and it’s time to man (er, dog?) up and accept the truth. I’ve been a little withdrawn lately.

Ever since my forever people brought my little person home, things have been different. I’ve spoken before about how I’m not really jealous of dear baby Carter. I love him more than words can say. But lately he’s been causing me new kinds of pain I would prefer to avoid if at all possible. Carter and I

In recent days he has discovered a new sound his voice can make, for example. It’s an incredibly high-pitched screeching sound, similar to a chirping bird. Except once he starts making it, the sound can go on for an hour at a time. Also, now that he’s discovered how to reach for things he has been grabbing my fur. Hard. Every time he gets a good hold, he yanks a good deal of fur out with it. And it hurts.

But I heard something today that made my heart pause a second. It was on the moving picture window on a television show called “Lost,” which I understand was quite a phenomenon in pop culture a few years ago. A man named Jack, who appeared to be some sort of leader, said it. “If we don’t learn to live together, we will die alone.”

At first I was a bit puzzled by the thought. It sounded so negative through the eyes of your resident doggie optimist. But the more I thought about it, the silver lining became apparent. And then it happened.

The screeching and grabbing happened simultaneously with one of his biggest smiles yet. In that moment, I was reminded what this is all about. Joy. From the ground up, that is what I do get from my time together with dear baby Carter. For that I can learn to live with the screeches and the clumps of fur I’m starting to lose on a daily basis.

 

Fifty Shades of Grey March 25, 2014

Please excuse my French. The whole cliché about us canines being colorblind? It’s bullshit. It’s simply not true. It is true that we are limited in terms of the color spectrum. We only see a fraction of the colors humans see. But we do see color. We see differences in color. And today I saw the value of life in a world that isn’t black and white.Sunshine

It occurred to me as I sat patiently by mom’s feet as she rocked baby Carter to sleep. It was dark in the room, but I wouldn’t call it black. I would call it grey. Grey, like one of those in between colors open for interpretation. Grey, like a color that means something instead of nothing. Grey. From the ground up, it looks pretty nice to me.

Yet it seems to be one of those colors that is frequently misunderstood. It’s one of those dreary colors that brings people down instead of lifting them up. It’s a symbol of uncertainty. Of confusion. Of feeling lost.

Fortunately it’s also one of the colors I see. Because (like most things) that whole cliché about canines being colorblind is only as true as we let it be. It was another grey and frigid winter day in Wisconsin today. And it hit some people pretty hard. Because I speak for a lot of the two-legged philosophers in my life when I say they have had had enough grey. They just want it to be colorful again.

Not only can we canines see more color than we are given credit for, but we interpret color in everything around us. And, at least according to me, the colors of life are open for interpretation by anyone on any given day. A few days ago it rained. But today I found it. My rainbow. Today, as I sat in my own version of grey, I was reminded life is not black and white. It’s not about waiting for something good or bad to happen. Instead we should make it happen. Instead we should make our own rainbow. Even if it is a little grey every now and then.