Frodo here. Let me begin this blog posting by saying I’m a serious kind of guy. Except when I’m rolling. Then it’s hard to assume your intellectual appearance. I can’t help it. Her highness has now started calling me Rollo. I cannot control myself when it comes to packed snow. I must roll. It’s actually an addiction. Most of our snow melted after the rain last weekend, but there are still patches around. And as we are walking, I cannot resist the urge to drop and roll.
Anyway, I digress. As I said, I’m serious and I look at things pretty objectively. But then there is this part of me that is willing to admit that there are things I cannot explain. Like “signs.”
When someone you love is finished with his or her earthly purpose, they leave us. They are no longer physically with us, but they are in our hearts. We think of them. We miss them. We wish they were still with us. Like Viktor…
And sometimes I think we have “signs” given to us to let us know that they are still with us- even though we can’t see them. Perhaps theses signs are purely coincidence, and perhaps we see them because we want to see them. But if we note them, and it gives us some strange feeling of comfort, what’s the harm?
Yesterday morning, just before sunrise, we headed out on our walk. We went up to the golf course. Yours truly was let loose, because I come when called. At least 99% of the time. If there was a meat truck accidentally dropping it’s load, I might not be quite so quick to return. But there are rarely meat trucks at the golf course. As we were walking, her highness turned around and gasped because the sunrise was nothing short of spectacular. And as you might imagine, she thought it would make a perfect background for a photo with me and the beatnik. She knew she only had minutes before it would disappear so she scrambled to find the perfect photo location. There is a giant rock on one fairway, so she ran to it. It slopes on one side- so the beatnik happily climbed up. Meanwhile, yours truly found a patch of snow at the base of the rock. A perfect patch. So you know what I did. I rolled. Her highness was anxiously calling for me to climb up the rock. The patch of snow wasn’t a meat truck – but it was almost as appealing. She called. And called. As she watched the brilliant sunrise already beginning to fade.
FINALLY I got on the rock, following my instructions for modeling. And of course, the beatnik did the opposite. He wouldn’t look at her. Or if he did, he would turn his ears all inside out. He would turn to his left so her highness tried to trick him by simply walking around to his left. If he could have turned his head around like something out of the Exorcist, he would have done so. Of course, if she moved far enough, there was no sunrise in the photo. She pleaded and made every noise possible.
In the end she did manage to get a few photos. No prize winners – and the most brilliant color had faded. But she was content and we continued on our walk.
When we got home, her highness quickly scrolled through the photos to see if there were ANY that justified having frostbite in her fingers. And that’s when she noticed something in a number of shots….
Now SHE sees something. But well… I’m not sure anyone else will. It’s really a stretch. It’s most visible in the last two photos. See if you notice anything. In the sky. And really, if you don’t- it’s OK. Signs do not have to be for everyone. But when they are for you, they sure can make you feel better. Even with your frostbitten fingers.
Have a good one. Peace and paws up.