Switch Gears

The other day, I wrote about taking some quiet time with Snickers,  MBFF.

As we sat on out front porch, I listened to the  birds.

They sounded happy.

Why hadn’t I noticed them before?  img_2746

It caused me to recall that it has also been some time  since I heard the call of the three, different owls we have in the neighborhood. One’s call is so deep, I imagine him to be six foot tall, hiding in the woods, waiting to prey on some unsuspecting passerby.

My mind drifts to during the last several weeks, I have been called to care for more young people than what is “normal.”

I have heard it  stated that “young” is defined as someone ten years older than you.  I’ll buy  that.

th-1Working with children, the age of our daughters,  I have had to assist them with planning and figuring out how to pay  for the funeral of a parent.  Unfotunately, many of these relationship were tragic, previously shattered and I am again  reminded that there is only one family name “The Waltons.” Regardless of the staus of the relationship, death has a way of sneaking up on you and the more death certificates I  sign for individuals younger than me,  the more I remember that. . .  and pondor it.   Comming attractions?

Maggie, the matriarch of our pack, doing her part this afternoon. Photo by E. Visotski.

Maggie, the matriarch of our pack,  “Come big or don’t come at all”

Switch gears, change the thought.    On my way to the porch with a tennis ball and a glass of scotch.  “C’mom guys, who wants to go outside?”

Sixteen  legs scamper towards the front door in eager anticipation and I’m on my way to class,   learning a lesson I should have mastered thirty years ago.


About Ray V.

Living in Aiken, South Carolina, USA, I like to share what I am looking at, thinking about or listening to. I refer to this as the view out my window. Thanks for stopping by.
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4 Responses to Switch Gears

  1. Mike says:

    Well done, Ray. There is much we can learn from our dogs, especially taking time for introspection. I hope it was a single malt that accompanied the tennis game…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: I Heard It | A Simple, Village Undertaker

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