The Girl With the Dog

So I've been dubbed, in my small town, "the girl with the dog". Here is why:

Yes indeed, that is my dog in a jogging stroller. Having a paralyzed dog and pushing him around in a stroller takes a certain type of moxie (or insanity), as most people think something along the lines of she doesn't have kids, so this must be some sort of psychological fulfillment of that lack. Other people just think my dog is lazy. So I set 'em straight. The dog can't walk.

For the most part, I adjust to Lewis's paralysis as it comes. He can't do much. I have to carry him from here to there. He rides in a stroller. But he seems happy and participatory enough. He still drags himself around pretty fast in the morning, biting my calves and spinning in circles, something he's done his whole life. Even so, despite mine and his adaptive qualities, there are days . . .

One particular day of late, as I was pushing Lewis through the park in his stroller, I got overtaken by the weight of his condition and his constant needs. Totally consumed, I was startled when a little piece of cotton brushed by my face. Looking up, I noted the warm breeze showered us with cotton fluff from the cottonwood trees.

I have to say, it's pretty hard to be morose when you find yourself encompassed in floating cotton, standing in a field of grass dancing in the warm spring breeze, brushed golden by the setting sun. Yes, it is easier to have a fully ambulatory dog, but I see that God still smiles on us. 

I am thankful to live in one of the most rugged and beautiful places in the world. Surrounded by the ever-changing face of nature, I am reminded that nothing stays the same, yet everything is taken care of, including Lewis and me. And so we press on.