.... fouled up your hands with animal waste and discharge, aching backs and dirty shoes, smells and sights of medications and clinical tools ... new dogs, scuffles, healing, sickness and deaths .... at the end of the day when the sun sets, you flop upon the couch ... lullabied by the deep rhythms of dog breaths ... weighted down by a furry bod pressed up tight against yours, heavy but so soothing .... the air so thick with the good odor of dogs that you can't even taste your own sweat.
Don't know about you, but at times, life sounds good like this. Simple. Yet so much more dense with meaning than a leather armchair and a golden tap.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Yes, fully agree with you! We should rich in spirit but not materialistic. ~~~gL
Post a Comment