Engaging Each Day with Action Words

Doodle. — Treasures Found.

I used to get so anxious when people messed with my lists and To Do notebooks.

I needed them to be pretty close to uncluttery.

But as usual, having kiddos has made me let that little obsession for perfection go.

(Just like Felix had to let go of the whole “no spots on the faucet’ thing he used to fuss about several years ago.)

Now,  every so often, I will flip through my To Do list notebook and find little treasures.

Little treasures left as doodles by the boy child.

Now, I’m so glad when I find these.

They are like snapshots of  his five year old thinking. Right now.


Yes. Yes, you are smart. Always believe this. But never ever begin to think that you are too smart to learn.

penguin named bacon

You have an awesome imagination. I hope you will always make time for play. And dream up penguins named “Bacon”. (Actually, the teacher in me thinks you are spelling “Penguin” there at the top…But as your Momma, I just think it is pretty ironic that it also looks a lot like “Bacon”.)

tgiving meal      santa

Holidays are magical. And I get the message, you are not a fan of turkey or … mashed potatoes, maybe? At least right now. I am betting that will change as you get older. But I think we both agree that Santa is awesome and should always be in color!


Always know this. You will always be in my heart, too, Buddy. (That is X and Me! Just in case you couldn’t tell!)

You. You are a treasure.

And so are your random doodles.


Continue. — Random Holiday Traditions NOT To Be Monkeyed With.

I believe in tradition.

Growing up with some family traditions gives you a strong foundation. Because you know what to expect. You get excited about little things. You look forward to these little things happening. And as you grow up, you share these traditions, these ways of doing things with others.

Sure, you adjust. You are flexible as you need to be based on events and people and time.

Traditions are a guide. Traditions give you a place to start.

And I believe with all of my heart…that you don’t … “monkey with tradition.”

A line I stole from the movie, ‘Mystic Pizza’, and made it one of my life’s ambitions.

I am the glue. I am the memory. I am the keeper of the tradition.

I feel a responsibility to keep them going. To keep them alive. Even if no one notices or is even paying attention, it is important to me that we keep doing these things.

So here is a list of our random family holiday traditions.

That should never ever be monkeyed with.



1. We open all of the family presents on Christmas Eve.

2. Santa brings unwrapped presents on Christmas morning.

3. Our elf on the shelf is named, Holly. I know, he has a girl name, but he’s a boy. Elf’s do that sometimes. Apparently. Especially when they are named by 5 year old girls.

4. Holly shows up on the first night that the Christmas tree lights go on. That’s how he knows to come.

5. The tree always goes up after Thanksgiving and usually comes down after New Year’s Day.

6. On Christmas Eve, the kiddos get to hug and kiss Holly goodbye. But he must be on the tree before bedtime so Santa can find him and take him home.

7. You may not go downstairs on Christmas morning before Momma. She must get the picture of the kiddos at the top of the stairs in full excitement mode.  It’s a Momma Rule. And Momma Rules can’t be broken.

8. We will have Monkey Bread for breakfast on Christmas morning. And we eat our Monkey Bread off of little blue Snowman plates. That is the only action those plates see all year.

monkeybread plate

9. We drive about 45 minutes to see Santa each year. We meet family friends for lunch and listen to THE Santa sing songs, play guitar and tell stories. It is pure Christmas magic. We believe.

10. We will always give our friends an ornament of some sort as a Christmas present.

11. We will always give a photo calendar to our Nanas, Maws and PawPaws.

12. There will always be 3 new ornaments added to the tree each year: one with a picture of X, one with a picture of Y and one with a picture of me and Felix together. Each with the current year engraved on it.

13. At Maw Betty’s house, we will always hang the “Horton Balls”, handmade ornaments with each person’s name on one.  New additions of babies or unions are added each year.


14. We open presents one at a time. Sometimes we clap for each present. But not always.

15. We watch the TBS 24 hours of A Christmas Story for … well, almost 24 hours. I’m actually sad when it is over.

New Year’s Eve (My favorite holiday):

16. We bring the neighbors some oranges.

17. We eat 12 grapes at midnight.

18. We make our Family Mind Map of Goals for the new year.

Valentine’s Day:

19. Is always Family Fondue Night! A night for us to stay in and enjoy each our family, while dipping random food into chocolate.

Christmas 2010 - Feb 18 2011 387

Fourth of July aka Y’s Birthday:

20. Fireworks. No matter where we are. Fireworks.


21. We use the classic plastic pumpkins to go trick or treating. No bags or pillow cases for us.

Halloween 2010 031


22. We go to an indoor water park on or around this holiday.


23. You can have Monkey Bread for Breakfast if you would like. You always get to choose the food for the day.

24. There will be a sunrise walk and photo shoot on the beach and I will make you hold up your fingers to show your age. Guaranteed.

25. There will be number candles on your cakes. Not just the number of individual candles, but candles (and sometimes even the cakes) in the shape of numbers. Because they are cool.

July 4th weekend 130

And because it is … tradition.

And…say it with me“You don’t monkey with tradition.” 

You just keep making new ones.

Merry Christmas, Action Worders!


Calm. — And in the end…

and in the end

I have always said that I would never have survived the Titanic. Partly because I assumed that I would have been down in steerage and wouldn’t have had much of a chance to start with.  But mostly, because I have never seen myself as one who was all that great in crisis situations.  However, I have also always said that if I were with Felix, I would have survived, because he is like a wolf among the sheep.  He would have been the Jack to my Rose, but he would have found two doors for us to float on top of and we would have both survived. I believe that with all of my heart.

But me in crisis? Well, I’m often too busy worrying about others to see the big picture. I am usually too focused on feelings and don’t see the ways out. I don’t think three steps in advance.  I don’t always decide things in a super fast fashion because I am too busy considering all of the options first.

So, when I found myself in probably one of the scariest situations of my adult life that I can remember yesterday…I have to say that I am feeling just a little bit proud of how I handled things.

I was concerned. I responded quickly. I yelled for help. I made some things happen.

And I feel like I stayed pretty calm.

However, over the course of the next couple of hours, I was told to calm down at least four different times. Despite the fact that I felt like I was being award-winningly calm.

It seems in crisis…that calm is a relative term.

First, the 911 dispatcher told me to calm down so she could hear me. I reminded her that I was in a movie theater and was trying to be heard over the Mickey Mouse cartoon playing as a time filler in the background.

The ambulance driver told me to calm down so he could give me the hospital address in this unfamiliar town that I rarely drive around in. I told him I was as calm as I could be with four kiddos under the age of 12 (two of which do not belong to me, two of which were hysterical)  in my possession during this time.

The administrative assistant at the hospital desk told me to calm down as I explained that I was just trying to help reunite a semi -in shock family member who didn’t know what was happening with his spouse.

And then the security guard also told me to calm down. To which I looked him in the eye and responded, “I. Am. Calm. This is my calm right now.”  I give him credit…He immediately worked to reunite my family members, so I’m calling it a WIN.

Over the next few hours, I calmly kept four kiddos, three husbands, and one mother calm while we waited. I made small talk and made plans to make sure everyone was taken care of. I calmly provided a quick dinner (Thanks Papa John’s) and entertainment (Thanks hotel swimming pool) for the two extremely wild young boys and two semi-hysterical and totally exhausted, old-enough-to-understand-what-was-going-on girls for the evening.

And then, later that night, I calmly worked with my Y, through the tummy aches and the tears, as she responded much like I used to when I was her age in these situations.

As The Beatles said, “And in the end…”

On this, the last day of NaBloPoMo, Blogember, YeahWrite, BlogHer, which marks for me, 47 days of daily blogging, I can say that I survived. And I am proud of it.

I remained calm. I did it.

So, “And in the end…the love we take is equal to the love we make.”

P.S. All turned out well. All of my people are well.


Perfect. — Please Pass the Mashed Potatoes.

Norman Rockwell's Thanksgiving  Freedom From Want

Norman Rockwell’s Thanksgiving
Freedom From Want

Traffic might be heavy.

The weather may be dreadfully dreary and cold.

It might be too windy for the iconic Macy’s Day parade balloons to fly.

You may forget your toothbrush.

Or forget an ingredient that was on the shopping list.

Someone may say something that hurts someone’s feelings.

Or ask a question that crosses the line.

The kitchen might get too hectic.

The cook may feel overwhelmed trying to get everything to come out at the same time.

The mashed potatoes might be lumpy.

The gravy might get cold.

The turkey might turn out to be a little on the dry side.

A kiddo might refuse to eat. Or say something is yucky.

Or … spill their milk on the nice table cloth. Or on the carpet in the dining room.

Someone might drink a glass too many of wine.

Or may have one too many helpings to cause a belly ache.

There might be an awkward silence.

Or too many people talking at once.

Someone may not help clean up the dishes even though they didn’t help cook and it is their turn.

A piece of china might get chipped.

Or maybe someone wasn’t able to come home. Or schedules conflicted. Or someone is ill or too far away. Or doesn’t have family, related or not, to gather with right now.

There are so many things that can go wrong on days like Thanksgiving.

Here’s a gift for you to make this holiday just a little bit easier, simpler:

It is not supposed to be a perfect day.

It is just another day. Another Thursday, where we set the intention to come together as friends and family and just be together.

So, accept it all. Everything that might go wrong and know that it is all part of the story.

The story that is this holiday, this Thanksgiving.

Because families are all about their stories. Their pictures. Their times. Their memories.

The traditions. The laughter. The dessert. The time and place. The table. The gathering. 

It doesn’t have to be perfect.

Remember it all. And just be thankful.

For every little piece of this day.

And please pass the mashed potatoes.

Happy Thanksgiving!


Splash. — A 41st Birthday Haiku.

There’s no better way

To begin a new year than

With a few splashes.

Water parks and slides,

tubes and tunnels and surf boards

with laughing kiddos.

Giggles and squealing.

From dripping, sliding, swimming

to wrapped up in towels.

To start another

trip around the sun for the

forty second time.


Bother. — The Little Brother Trick Revealed and Debunked.

Years ago, I taught Y the classic and infamous “Little Brother Trick”.

Fail-safe. Sure thing. Works every time. 100% guaranteed.

You know this, right? The Little Brother Trick?

Step 1: You want something that your Little Brother has. Or you want him to do something for you. Or more likely, you want him to leave you alone and do not want to share with him right then.

Step 2: Completely and politely ignore him … BUT…go do something nearby that looks gloriously more fun and exciting than anything he is doing at the time.

Step 3: As he gets distracted by the amazingly awesome activity you are engaged with and comes over to investigate…slowly and carefully transition him to the ‘new and improved’ game and sneak away to do what you wanted in the first place.

Win. Win. Big Sister gets what she wants. Little Brother is happily entertained. And….Momma is left completely out of it and never has to endure the sibling squabbly-scream from the living room, “MOOOOOOOooooo-OOOOOOOOooooooMMMMMMMmmmmm! He won’t leave me aloooooo–ooooooonnnnnneeeeee!”

Win. Win. Win.

Except, I have to say …. this isn’t working for Y.

Yes, it seems she is the exception to the rule. She is the anomaly. She is the glitch in the Matrix.

Because it seems her Little Bother Brother gets the best of her 9 times out of 10.

Two weeks ago, he decided to try to trick her by sneaking in her room, swapping her real five dollar bill with a fake one that he made.

Last week, he drew a picture letting her know that that he kidnapped a bear from her room.

Yesterday, he was bargaining over 4 quarters and a dollar bill to pay her for helping him (aka getting her to do it instead) clean his room.

He’s five. But he seems to be really good at it.

And the Little Brother Trick doesn’t work for her.

She just wants it too much. Whatever IT is. And he knows that.

He’s had her number since the day he took his first step. He is … immune to her tricks.

They are so different, these two. In so many ways. Their spirits and personalities are almost complete opposites.  How they see the world, how they interact with it. From the minute they get out of bed, until the very last minute before sleep takes over.

She wakes up a little grumpy and needs a few minutes to be left alone before much is expected of her.

He pounces down the stairs before anyone and is ready to take on the day…after a cup of his caffeine of choice: chocolate milk.

She needs 17 reminders to get her jobs done in the morning; brush your teeth and hair, get your shoes on. Hurry!

He just gets it done.

And then some days. They are completely the opposite of this. They switch roles in a heartbeat.

She is up and ready with her hair in a ponytail and her tennis shoes and backpack on.

He’s still in a ball in the floor in his Avengers pajamas bemoaning the fact that he has to wear pants instead of shorts to school today.

We call it the good child/bad child effect.

When one is falling apart, the other one pulls it together. When one’s horns are showing, the other is polishing the halo.

She is the Yin to his Yang. And visa versa.

And he is the Neo to her Little Bother Brother Tricks.

And even though they don’t always get along…they love each other.

Because that is what family does…and there’s no trick there.

Let’s all, Go. Do that.


Schedule. — What’s Wrong with this Picture?

Yesterday, I got an email that canceled Y’s morning Girl Scout meeting.

So, I got out my handy dandy white out tape that I L.O.V.E. and erased it from the page.

Which is when I realized…


So, you would think that I got a great deal accomplished.

You would think that I really made a dent in the never ending To Do list.

But I didn’t. I worked all day long on this project or that project.

And still I don’t feel like I finished a single thing.

Which frustrates me just as much as this:

iphone email

That is just wrong. 855 emails. You have got to be kidding me. I blame it on NaBloPoMo and the already self-imposed 41 days of blogging that started back on October 13th.

This MommyVerbs post brought to you by a day spent  mostly in pajamas, laptop on my lap working on a few projects, interrupted often by tickling sessions with the boy child and quick trip to town with the family, but still almost utterly unproductive. I did take a shower eventually. And I made the bed. 

Take that NaBloPoMo.



Meditate. — For Mommas…In Real Life…In the Shower.

My alarm clocks starts making noise at about 4:30 a.m. Not because I have to get up that early, I just have a lot of morning routine things that I try to do. The key word there being… try.

I try to exercise.

I try to write.

I try to catch up on random projects.

And I’ve even tried to add in some meditation.

I continue to try to add in the Chopra/Oprah 21 Day Meditation Challenge. In my dreams, I want to be that Mom that meditates and does yoga and feels all centered and balanced. But come on, did you just meet me?!

The first few days, I get comfortable and listen to Oprah give her introduction. I pay attention to Deepak as he leads me to … and through…  the centering thoughts and the mantra. I giggle when he first says that he will ‘mind the time’ for me. I get through the first week or so. But then I start getting so distracted and my quiet time is so limited, that I start working on other projects and ideas during my ‘meditation’ time.  I doubt my drafting in WordPress while Deepak tells me about creating my Matrix to the sounds of ocean waves in the background is exactly what they had in mind.

Plus, with all that talk of the Matrix coupled with the sound of the ocean, I keep getting all distracted by thoughts of Keanu. Yes, Keanu at the beach. Circa Point Break. Hmmmmmmmm.

Then they really lost me when I wandered to the website and realized that I could download this series for 39 bucks OR get the three part series for a bargain 99 bucks. The whole soul searching, find your perfect health and destiny thing became a little cheapened for me. It is another (brilliant) money maker for two people that 1) don’t need any more money and 2) don’t live in the real world with us anymore. 

So, the distraction of Keanu and the giggling over Depak’s phrases, plus the amount of money that they are both raking in…put that all together and I decided that we can do better.

I’d like to introduce you to  another one of the ‘brilliant’ shower/hair dryer ideas, now making its debut here:

photo credit:

photo credit:

The MommyVerbs Meditation Challenge:  Keepin’ it Real….in the Shower.

The Keepin’ it Real in the Shower meditation journey starts whenever you have a chance to start. It is up to you.  Do it when you can. Skip it when you are tired, or in a rush or just forget. It is here when you need it, but no pressure. MommyVerbs will be your guide each day as you discover all of the things that you do and all of the amazing ways that you are….

all while in the shower.

Come on, now. I’ve mentioned this before. Mommas everywhere know that this is probably, maybe, the only 10 5, if we’re lucky, minutes of solitude during our days. We multitask every other part of our day, so we probably won’t notice one more thing. So, use your time wisely. Meditate while in the shower! Here’s a few centering thoughts and mantras to get you started. 21 Days seems ambitious to us, too, so 5 will get us started and as for you … do what you can.

Day 1: Centering Thought:  Ahhhhh.   Mantra: I hope my hot water heater holds out!

Day 2: Centering Thought: Shhhh.  Mantra: What will I pack the kiddos for lunch?

Day 3: Centering Thought: Hmmmm. Mantra: What will I wear today?

Day 4: Centering Thought: Whoooooo. Mantra: I need to go to the grocery store.

Day 5: Centering Thougth: Siiiiiiggggghhhhhh. Mantra: Nevermind all of that. I just need to shave my legs.

Today’s Action Challenge: How do you center and calm yourself? What do you do to slow down and focus? Add in time to do these things for yourself.

Let’s all, Go. Do that.


Trace. — Souvenirs of His Soul.

Three years ago, last night, goes on my list of the top 10, maybe top 5, of the hardest nights ever.

Felix was out of town on a business trip. I was single Momma-ing, and juggling all that goes along with having a 5 year old and a 2 year old.

We came home to discover that our beloved 10 year old Cayman had thrown up in several places on the living room rug. This was so unlike him. He never had accidents in the house. He never made a mess. He never tore anything up. He could be home by himself in the house, all day long, and would just sleep on my couch.

So, immediately, I knew something was wrong. I took the best care of him that I could. I hurried the kiddos through their routines, got them tucked in early, and then turned my full attention to Cayman.

He was miserable. He was pacing. He clearly did not feel well. He needed to go outside every 30 minutes or so. I stayed with him downstairs all night long. He couldn’t get comfortable. At one point, he went outside and wouldn’t come back to me. I was so worried that I headed out with a flashlight and was relieved when I found him laying in the mulch bed. I coaxed him back inside. He finally crawled under the coffee table and we slept for minutes, here and there, with my hand on his back.

I knew something was terribly wrong.  The next morning, three years ago today, I hurried the kiddos through the morning routines to get Cayman to our local Veterinarian as soon as they opened at 7:00 a.m. We were at the door when they unlocked it.

A few hours later, I got a call that said they needed to do surgery. I asked them to please wait until I could get there. I rushed out of the conference I was attending and flew back to the Vet’s office. I spent a few minutes with him, looking into his eyes, reassuring him, loving on him. I’ll never forget how he looked at me. Never. His eyes were tired. He was hurting. He was sad. And his eyes seemed to say, “I’m sorry” too. 

Poor Felix was five hours away and was already on his way home, leaving the business behind. Just trying to get home. I felt so bad for him. To be so far away. Rushing, desperately to get home.

But there was nothing that anyone could do. The doctors couldn’t do anything. Felix couldn’t get home fast enough. Cayman couldn’t continue with that pain anymore.

And just like that. I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing. Wailing and sobbing.

The rest of the story is just punctuated by what we did and what we had to do. Felix came home. We went to see Cayman one more time. We hugged. We cried. We made calls. We made arrangements. We had to tell the boy and girl-childs the terrible news. We held them while they cried. And we all cried together.

Then it was the next day. It was tomorrow.

Three years ago, tomorrow.

And we started to see the signs.

Signs of Cayman. Or signs from Cayman.

The very next day, we had the adventure with Cleo. Cayman was already on the job as a Guardian Angelcleo

lightThe very next week, I came home to find the sun hitting his picture, spotlighting it in a way that made me stop and smile.

We had a memorial service, invited everyone who loved Cayman over for a time to share stories and have some snacks.

We planted a tree and sprinkled some of his ashes under the tree.

A few days later, it snowed.

And in the snow, randomly or not, one morning, we discovered doggy paw prints. They led from Cayman’s tree. To our back door. And then around the house. snow

This was Cayman’s gig. He did what we called, “Perimeter Checks”. He walked our property everyday. He kept an eye on things. He made sure every thing was in its place.

He was still on the job.

A few months later, we took his ashes to the beach and to the pier on the York River. He loved the water and the ocean.

pawprintAnd randomly in the sand, we found a single perfect paw print.

Another sign.

And as I look around my house tonight, even three years later, there are still so many signs of Cayman. So many traces of his time with us. So many souvenirs of his soul.

His picture is everywhere. Right there beside X and Y when you come in the door.  On the kitchen counter. In the office. On the bookshelf in the living room.

His flashing light collar is still hanging on the coat closet door.  collar

His ball, leash and collar still sit in a place of honor on Felix’s dresser.  leash

His ashes sit in the kitchen windowsill. Looking out, looking in. In the middle of the family action.

boxThe words are faded. comfort

But we always keep a candle light in the window.

Signs…so he can always trace his way home.

cayman signs

Today’s Action Challenge (courtesy of WordPress Weekly Writing Challenge):  Look around. Find three objects around you that most represent you. Objects that could serve as traces and souvenirs of you.  Describe them and tell why these are important to your story. How do these reflect your personality and who you are?


Miss. — Guardian Angels come in all shapes, sizes and species.

Today, I am missing a friend. 

He’s been gone three years…and not a day goes by that he doesn’t enter my mind. 

I like to think of him this way. 

Doing this job: Cayman. Guardian Angel. 


Cleopatra, better known as Cleo, was sitting in her yard looking out over the houses on the hill.  If only I could go exploring, she thought.  Cleo, a young boxer with black and brown fur, and big brown eyes, knew that the world was bigger than her own backyard.  The blue, warm skies and her own puppy sense of adventure and abandon, encouraged her to go out exploring.  She didn’t think about what would happen next.  She didn’t think about how she would get home, she just started running.

Oh, it felt so good to be free and on her own.  She smelled things she had never smelled before.  Cleo found new mailboxes and yards of grass and trees just begging to be sniffed.  She met new friends and said, “Hello!” wagging her brindle-colored tail.

Cleo had no worries in the world.  She walked down the street, head held high and was proud of her own foolish bravery.

Then Cleo noticed that the sky had started to get dark. She wasn’t sure which way to go, and she started to get worried.  She wished she had thought to pay closer attention to which way she came.  “How will I get back to my home? Who will help me?” she said to herself.  Cleo was now very scared.

What Cleo didn’t know was that there was someone watching.  There was someone who could help.


Cayman.  A mature, stoic black Labrador was on his first day at his new job–Guardian Angel.

On Earth, Cayman was loved by many, who now missed him terribly, their hearts broken by his journey across the rainbow bridge.  He knew his family was sad, and he was watching as they loved on his memories and fun times.  He was watching them as they planted a tree in his honor.  He was watching … and wanted to be with them again, but it was time for another adventure.

Cayman had spotted the “HELP WANTED” ad right way and and knew he had all the right job requirements that made him perfect for this new assignment.

He was smart. Loyal. Friendly. Aware. He knew the dangers of the world. Knew to walk in the grass, not in the road.  To avoid fast-moving cars.  He was fast. He could chase a ball for hours without getting tired.  He had special skills, too.  He could swim and dive into any water.  He was kind with children and watched over them, taking this responsibility very serious.  His owners used to let him babysit X and Y when they went out to play.  “Take Cayman with you” was a job he took with pride.

Cayman had had many jobs in his lifetime.  Friend.  Guard Dog.  One of his favorite jobs was retrieving the newspaper from the driveway each morning.  His people would let him out the front door and he would immediately set his sights on the green plastic bag with the newspaper inside, just laying at the end of the driveway.  He ran with great speed and purpose, picked up the paper in his mouth and ran all the way back to deliver it.  Most days, this was an easy task, but Cayman always knew when it was Sunday because the paper was so much heavier and harder to carry.  Sometimes he would have to drop it and readjust his hold, to deliver all of the pages intact.  Cayman ran inside and dropped it on the kitchen floor in order to receive his well-deserved treat.

Cayman also held the title of “Perimeter Checker” for his people.  Every day, several times a day, Cayman walked around the edges of this entire yard.  Most people thought he was just wandering around, but Cayman knew better.  He knew how important it was to keep a daily check on the grounds, to know the lay of the land and any changes that occurred in between checks.  He knew what animals had visited, how the grass was growing, found any lost toys or balls, made sure that there was no litter or garbage in the yard, as his people loved to keep their yard looking neat.  He knew to stay in the grass, stay off of the road, although he did enjoy taking advantage of the walking path at times to keep his feet dry from the morning dew.

All of these skills and experiences made him perfect for this new job.  Not many dogs are selected for an assignment on their very first day.  But Cayman was different.  He didn’t need any training, he was ready.


Enter Cleo.

Cayman watched as the young pup headed out of her yard, walking down the middle of the street.  Cayman shook his head, “silly pup.”

Cayman watched as Cleo smelled mailboxes and new scents, and he knew that she wasn’t paying attention to how far away she was traveling.  Cayman knew that she wasn’t leave a trail to find her way home again.  Again, “silly pup.”  (Cayman would make some kind of face or look here.)

Cayman watched as cars whizzed by, Cleo didn’t even notice.  Cayman watched as she walked up to strangers and other dogs, and he knew that she didn’t know the dangers all around her.

Cayman watched as it got darker and darker outside.  He knew that Cleo wouldn’t be able to find her way home and it was getting colder and colder.  Cayman knew all too well the comforts of a warm house and a nice, big fluffy bed to sleep on.  Cleo would be scared to be outside by herself.

It was time for action.  Cayman looked around again and led Cleo to a nice house on the corner.  The lights were on and the cars were in the driveway and Cayman knew.  Cayman told her how nice these people were and that they would help her and take care of her.  Cayman told her how to get to the back door and directed Cleo to scratch at the door and ask to be invited in.  Cayman knew these people would let her in.

And they did.

Cayman’s people looked at each other and somehow knew. Knew that Cayman had sent this young, naive pup there for help. Knew that they would be able to find her home and get her back safely.

And they took comfort in the fact that Cayman was still there, taking his job as seriously as he had done before, watching.

Because puppies … and people … will need him again. Someday.


Story originally posted on January 8, 2013. Reposted today because I’m missing him.
© Sharon Zuckerwar and MommyVerbs, 2010-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sharon Zuckerwar and MommyVerbs with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

%d bloggers like this: