Every day when I wake up, I have to do my version of getting back on the horse. The pains and disappointments of the previous day assault me and I have to throw them off and get back on the happy horse. I grasp the wooden cross that lays on my chest while I sleep, and I remind myself of the promises of Jesus, the most excellent, happiest of news. I smile and then I go to my shrine, cross myself and offer myself for the day, promising to do better, be better, incline myself better toward the Lord. Then I turn on the altar lights and my day begins. Directly after doing that this morning, I discovered a large, long piece of dog poop in my closet.
Even though I had walked that little dog at 6:00 in the morning, by the time I woke up at 10:00, he'd befouled my closet. Clearly, the dog is not housebroken and, at 3 years old, it is doubtful I would be successful in training him. If I lived in a house and had a doggie door, perhaps that would be the ticket, but I live in an apartment and I don't even have a fenced-in yard. Anyway, he is the wrong dog for me. I need a dog that will help me, not cause me extra anxiety.
After downing a strong mug of coffee, I took the little fellow back to the shelter. I do my best not to dwell on the block of sadness at the bottom of my stomach. Several people will be critical of my taking the pup back to the shelter. They do not understand that the dog is not a pet for me. It has a job. It is a service animal. Someone else WILL snatch him up. Bringing him back was the right thing to do.
I was in a lot of pain today and downed two pain pills at once. They barely made a dent in my pain level. Some days are just like that. The pain pills just don't work. I settled into my crochet project; a baby blanket for the Gabriel Project at Project Defending Life, stopping now and then to load the washer and dryer, cleaning all the fabrics and pillows on which the dog had slept. The cat was thrilled, and he flung himself across the freshly washed quilt that I arranged over the pink couch.
While I crochet, I say prayers for the baby that is going to use that blanket; prayers for a good life, a loving family, and a relationship with Jesus. I ask the Lord to be kind to the little one. While I am doing the laundry or eating my lunch, however, I am coming to grips with the very real possibility that I may never be able to get a service animal. I have to adjust my expectations. So MANY things are outside the realm of possibility for a poor person! I am so tired of the dwindling collection of available options of my life, but I must get over it and resign myself to the reality of the situation. It is important to me to learn to gracefully accept the will of God, and not to do so with bitterness or sour feeling. Plenty of people in the world are in far worse shape. Get back on the happy horse!
I enjoy the beauty of the baby blanket growing between my fingers and I thank the Lord for the skill and the ability. My carpal tunnel kicks in now and then, and I have to stop for a while, but it doesn't matter. I am not on a schedule and I can't get fired.
I feel the absence of the dog's energy in the house, and I deliberately displace the empty feeling with the satisfaction of creating a beautiful blanket. Back on the happy horse.
Silver Rose Parnell