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Winifred and Mic Jagger would be best buds. She knows you can’t always get what you want, but you get what you need. And she knows how to get it.

June 11, 2017 2:10 pm

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Chapter 3: In House Therapist

 

Back home, in my office, coffee at my side, I peruse emails, local and national news on various websites.

Winnie sits in my lap, watching me get all riled, frustrated, talking back to the screen about what’s happening in the world. I know exactly what she’s thinking…

“Who are you talking to? And what are you accomplishing?”

Of course, she’s right. Why am I making myself miserable over something I can do little about? Why can’t I be an observer? A quiet witness to what’s going on. Not so emotionally exercised over things I have no control over.

Winifred understands this. For she is ever the observer, witness to my human foibles and foolishness. She knows when I am most vulnerable. And has no compunction about reminding me when I need to give it a rest!

She picks up one of the many tennis balls scattered about the room. Starts bouncing it. Tosses it in the air, catches it in her mouth. Impossible to ignore. If I do, she jumps on my lap, ball in mouth and shoves the ball in my face.

Winifred and Mic Jagger would be best buds. She knows you can’t always get what you want, but you get what you need. And she knows how to get it. How many times do we humans have to be slapped upside the head to know when it’s time to give it a rest and go play?

Winnie is the poster pooch for preparation, picking your spots and pouncing!  Everything about her screams, I am right here in front of you.  I am happy. You are miserable. Time to go outside and play!

Winifred knows what she needs. And thankfully, what I need!

Today she beats me out the door, ready to…

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