There is something about an animal that makes my heart happy and puts a smile on my face. It can be the wide long space between two big eyes on the nose of a cow, the spunky frolic of a spring lamb, or a cat’s paw curled over the eyes during a nap, and almost everything about a dog.
Tuesday was a windy day in Boston. Women walking down the sidewalk had to walk with hands holding down summer skirts, stray Metro newspapers blew in circles, eyes squinted against blowing sand, and one man kited down Boylston with a homemade sail attached to a skateboard. It was no tropical storm on the horizon, but just a summer wind blowing through town.
Walking past the held down skirts, swirling newspapers and avoiding the parasailing skateboard, I passed by a man walking a dog. It was a shaggy sort of dog like an English sheepdog. Shorn down in the spring, his growing coat was blowing in the wind. He had the look of a dog sticking his head out a moving car window. Eyes squinting with a happy look, a grin on the face, fur blowing back in the breeze. He trotted down the sidewalk like a Muppet on a field trip.
A few stressful situations into the week, I tried to find my happy place. Meditate. Focus. Relax. With out provocation, the image of the breezy Boylston street dog pops into my mind and I instantly smile. Disarming who ever was on the other side of the stressing situation. Oh, if only I could pet that dog!
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