Zen Master

Damn weather forecasters.  When they tell you there's a 10% chance of rain it means one person out of the 10 in their office think it'll rain.  Not very scientific and a lot of shooting in the dark.  I thought the forecast this weekend was supposed to be for sun.  I had planned on having Jersey outside in the backyard so she could lie down and soak up the healing energy of the sunlight.  Unfortunately it didn't happen that way.

Everytime Jersey is out and gets the chance to breathe fresh air and look around, she seems to get energized.  It is so heartening to see her ears up and her nose twitching as she smells stuff in the air.

She has always loved to be outside with her poppa.  The two of us have done so much exploring together. Last week I wrote about her favorite, joyful place - Cherry Creek Dog Park.  She also loved to take long, long walks throughout our neighborhood in Colorado.  The walking paths meandered  through beautiful stands of trees and across open fields.  She loved to torment the prairie dogs as they chatterred while standing lookout, popping up from their holes like a game of "Whack a Mole."

Another favorite thing was to sit at the top of the hill in our backyard.  It wasn't really a hill but the strech of wood chips along the top of the retaining wall.  She was like a zen master as she sat there for hours; content, contemplative and aware.  Nothing got by her and she was interested in it all  She saw all the cars going by, she saw the deer, she let us know when the neighborhood fox would sneak past on it's daily patrol; she knew when the school around the corner got out because she'd greet all the kids and parents walking past with barks. It was almost as if she was saying "I'm here, I'm on patrol so keep on walking by."  The kids would all wave at her and point.  They would excitedly tell their moms who were walking them home, "There's the doggy saying hello."

After we moved to Maryland there was no more hill for her to majestically sit on.  Instead, she'd either sit on the grass and survey the woods looking for critters that might chance to walk past or be mesmerized by the leaves waving at her whenver the wind would blow. She knew that's where the squirrels where and she would watch them climb the trees and hop from limb to limb.

She would also sit on the deck at the top of the stairs leading to the yard.  She could see across the yards of the houses next to us and tell us when one of the neighbors was cutting the lawn.

Now, she spends her time lying in the bed we made for her, looking out the front window.  She still barks when people go past walking their dogs but mainly she watches; her head down on the pillow.  She looks so sad.  I think she's remembering happier times when she would be outside running free and playing "Whack a Mole" with the prairie dogs.