The last day of the holiday. . . .

 

Jasper and his Christmas bow

Well. Tomorrow marks the beginning of the new work year. We were looking for no more than to survive the holidays, and we did better than that. A small victory. Our handsome boy wore his red velvet ribbon with no complaint, though maybe a little embarrassment. I'm hoping it wasn't just giving up. It seems not. He grows more comfortable with each day, and of course I'm not above rearranging furniture to help him feel less constrained. . . more able to move in and out; up and down. We had a major victory a week or so ago, when he let out a small "woof" in the middle of the night and went charging out the dog door. We didn't figure out who the intruder was, but he came back in smelling of rosemary, so that at least gave us his trajectory. Into the herb garden. Cat? Badger? Possum? Mountain lion? (the last is unlikely but not impossible). Still. He clearly saw the yard as his to protect. Another victory. Yay, Jasper. 

The daughters are safe, if not free from worry. The kind we all have these days. This multi-faceted illness/society/world sort of concern that isn't easily expressed in words. "How are your children? How are the kids?" is always my second question to friends not seen for a while. It is literal, but also something more. "How are all of the things that concern you most closely? How are you coping with this threat to all that you hold most dear?" 

Jasper. Unambiguously good.

How can we come together? How can we understand each other? How can we bear to be in the same room with those who would threaten this civilization? How can we help?

Tomorrow I will walk Jasper. I will make things. I will try to figure out other ways to make our small corner of the world a better place.