my sweet old lady, german shepherd, abby is almost 11 and plagued now with hip dysplasia. I describe watching her bolt out and run searching for me when she hears the car engine humming along towards home as one of the moments in life where the heart swells. That swelling fills with you awareness of its endless capacity to grow and for a few moments, enables you to forget how difficult it is to love. It feels like someone poured a pitcher of goopy, semifluid paint into a small bowl with a border of cut out holes around the top and the amorphous liquid rushes out and clings to the surrounding structures-- leaving them touched with a lightness and hope.
eventually, the fluid dissolves and what just transpired is forgotten but I'd like to think that some of that colorant stains.
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