Snow and ice aren’t very nice,
once thoughts have moved to spring.
Still sleeping in can be a win,
such warmth those blankets bring.
Today was our 24th morning with below zero temps.
The weather’s getting old, both for me and my handsome man Rex.
Midwestern winters can get a lot worse than this one, still we both knew we needed to shake off our sour attitudes some.
Rex grabbed his napping brother Tucker’s letter jacket for an early Valentine’s date at our favorite coffee and crepe shop.
We immediately knew we’d scored a win as we walked in the door and smelled the sweet scents from the oven.
Though my glasses were steamed up as I approached the counter, I could see there was one chocolate chip cookie left just for us though Rex preferred the long, thin crispy wafer that came with our cappuccino.
Rex was attracting more than a few smiles in spite of a mohawk that’s gone radically rogue. In fact, I even thought I caught him winking back at a couple of stylish young ladies at the next table glancing his direction.
But then a slightly older, smiling woman walked up to us and said, “Oh, but I can tell he’s a good boy. In fact, a VERY good boy! I can see it in his eyes.”
Suddendly Rex looked up at me for a moment and gave me some sweet and gentle kisses on my hand.
I warmly nodded at the woman and told her, “Oh, yes. This loving Valentine is most definitely a winner.”
Junie B. was busy finding her place in the sun on this frigid morning as I announced, “It’s Groundhog Day.”
“And it seems Puxatony Phil’s expecting 6 more weeks of winter.”
I detected a tiny growl.
“Hey, that’s not so bad,” I added. “The local weather man is actually predicting another 8 to 12!”
With that, Junie B. jumped off her perch and made a fast retreat back under the thick blankets atop her dog bed.
My girl knows a long winter’s nap cures most everything up here in the midwest.
Even a case of the blues.
My terrier Tucker never lets me leave his sight, unless he’s crated.
He senses my moods. He feels every ache. And he shares any pain.
My senior boy truly looks out for me.
And today he was extra busy.
I have the flu (in spite of the flu shot), and have been home recovering.
Tucker was so happy to have me around today, but looked very concerned when I attempted to go out and shovel the 12 inches of heavy new snow in the driveway.
He once again stole my warmest old muffler in an effort to prevent me from going outside.
But being stubborn I, of course, went out anyway.
Luckily, I didn’t last long.
Tucker had started barking at me outside the window and wouldn’t quit until I did.
Some days that dog sure is a whole lot smarter than me.
Actually maybe most days.
“A single sunbeam is enough to drive away many shadows.” – St. Francis of Assisi –
Even one sunbeam is a gift from above in mid January and I was particularly grateful they were present early yesterday morning.
Mr. Bojangles, my hospice cat, was warmed by those same sunbeams as he took his last little breath.
My heart was warmed some as well.
It seems Mr. Bojangles decided to leave on his own terms.
He passed away peacefully while the car was warming up so I could drive him to our vet.
However, Mr. Bojangles earlier days had been anything but cozy, and were laced with many shadows. He had originally come to the shelter as part of an animal cruelty case.
Yet his days in my home appeared to be happy ones for him. He fit right in with the household and immediately claimed his special spot on a desk near a window.
It was just perfect for catching a sunbeam or two, as well as a quick catnap.
Mr. Bojangles passed exactly one month after he came to us from the shelter.
Though his time here was brief, I will always remember the sunny days we spent together and smile.
And I am at peace knowing the shadows in his life are finally gone forever.