I'm beginning to act like my dog

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

First thing this morning, Zing and I were waiting for the light on Capitol Mall -- gold bridge to our right and the Capitol Building a couple blocks on the left, with the sun rising behind it like syrup. I squinted and waved at a man from our building named Bill, and when he crossed the street he said to me, “Whenever I see you, you’re smiling. That’s nice to see!”

He meant well. He had no idea he was describing me with the same words people describe my dog! I guess Zing the smiler must be having a good effect on me. Thanks, Zing, you little trouble-maker!

A long time ago someone told me I have a nice smile, and, perversely, I spent the next year trying to frown more. Really. I wanted people to take me more seriously. But now I’m happy I can smile.

After that I juggled the minutes, still trying to shape a routine, which is harder than you think when you are also shaping a life. I decided to have my coffee first, before training Zing. At last! That darn training has dominated our mornings. Surprisingly, the coffee made training more fun. Then exercise. (Do you think I’ll ever do a single pushup? I am dubious.) And so on … Finally, Zing had his happy pills (chicken cubes worked!) and I went out for a hot chocolate at Freeport Bakery. It was just the moment when the high school down the street lets out and they all head to the bakery. It was kind of fun to be surrounded by that old familiar teenage noise. 

I think Zing survived my absence. There was no note on the door, and no scratches on the woodwork. 

For a treat, I was going to take him to an Ash Wednesday blessing on the mall, just around the corner, but Zing told me he’d prefer to stay home and have a treat. No ashes for him.

Love,

k