They practice forgiveness. Grudges are exhausting and depressing no matter the cause, and moving past them makes wonderful space for freedom and happiness.
As my loyal followers and fans are aware, My Dad is a soccer referee and he had been very busy during the Fall season. (He LOVES to officiate soccer and sometimes humans who know My Dad will allow me to sit with them along the touchline) The beautiful November weather here in the Chicago boasted of some days in the upper 60’s (F) and close to 85% sunny skies.
However, all good things must come to an end, or is it, no good deed goes unpunished? (My Dad says that a lot!) The past two Sunday’s, the change to (real) winter has started and so has My Dad’s complaining. My Dad tolerates some aspects of winter, especially if the temperatures are close to freezing with no wind. Our Sunday snowfalls were both very pleasant and I spent a lot of time outside with Kaya – I really like to play in the snow, eat snow, catch snowballs, roll in the snow, relax in the snow. But, let me clarify – no complaining by My Dad on those past two Sundays.
The real complaining started two days ago. My Dad does not like the wind, especially when the temperatures are single digits Fahrenheit. I demand five to six walks per day and when I give My Dad the let’s go out stare, I watch him put his cold weather gear on. Over long-underwear and Nike Combat Gear, he will don: a U.S. Soccer jacket with a high neck collar, a black North Face fleece with a high neck collar, an Eddie Bauer storm coat with a high neck collar AND a hood, two knit hats, and ski goggles. EARTH TO LUNAR BASE, DO YOU COPY? Wait, I forget two pairs of gloves – I am not making this up.
MAGIC, WHAT ARE YOU GIGGLING ABOUT IN THERE?
JUST BLOGGING ABOUT OUR PLEASANT WEATHER. DID YOU MAKE YOUR DINNER SALAD, YET? DON’T FORGET ABOUT MY DINNER.
Mmmm….ok, he’s in the kitchen. But My Dad does look out for me. He puts on my Therapy Dog jacket to keep me a bit warmer and our walks are limited to about 20 minutes, on snow only…My Dad is worried that the salt slush will freeze my little toes. And when I go poop, My Dad is VERY complimentary, very happy, because we can head home – to WARMTH.
My Dad takes me INTO O’Hare International Airport when we pick up his sister, Mary. I know I am supposed to be in a down/stay, but people always come up to pet me. They always smile at me, talk to me, and pet me. My Dad is very proud of me.