right here, right now
I took a baby break last week because Sunday, my usual newsletter day, Michael and I got up at 3:30 in the morning to drive down to Southern California to meet and adopt our new rescue dog, Callie. She’s an anxious, hilarious, goofy little dachshund who’s a great addition to the family. But that there-and-back journey was exhausting, and I gave myself the gift of focusing on few tasks when we got home Sunday evening. Besides, we were fully focused on trying to acclimate and welcome this frightened little girl into her new life.
I’ve spent this past week getting to know her and watching her slowly come out of her shell. When we first brought her home, she shivered uncontrollably with fear, but even that first night snuggled under the covers into the big bed (the name we give what should be “the human bed,” but what usually becomes “the whole family’s bed”).
On Thursday night Michael said, “I hope we get to see her wag her tale someday,” and then a few hours later she kept me awake trying to jump out of bed with excitement. I stayed up for an extra hour throwing a miniature tennis ball for her, laughing whenever she pounced on it like a rabbit. Needless to say, she’s wagged her tale.
She is mostly-frightened by our cat, Jack. He definitely weighs more than her and has a swagger than can only be embodied by a consummate serial killer. But her fear is starting to wane—today she chased him under the bed, and I was shocked to see him actually running in retreat. Usually, he quiets naughty dogs with a swift claw to the face. I can only guess that he was playing along, though I really don’t know.
She is comfortable with our sweet boy Ricky the way all dachshunds seem to be comfortable with their kind. Big, small, long-haired, short-haired, they all seem to automatically connect with ease. Perhaps it’s the kinship of long, low dogs—a similar physical and emotional perspective. However, Ricky does get a little jealous when he fears she’s getting more attention than him. Though he technically hasn’t been “the only child” for a couple years, he usually doesn’t feel much competition from Jack, so he’s had a few moments of needing to nose his way in for cuddles and pets.
It’s been a week of growth, exploration, and change. And at this very moment, though, the whole family is sitting by the fire as rain taps our roof. Michael’s in one chair reading about botany, Jack’s in the other chair taking his post-rain bath, and I’m on the couch tapping away on my laptop while Ricky and Callie doze beside me. It’s pretty lovely, this forgettably calm evening with the family.
prompt #33:
Use this prompt to take stock of the moment you’re in right now. Describe your scene as if you are writing a screenplay or a movie. What is the setting? What is your character (or characters) doing? Which details would you highlight? How can you paint a picture of the energy and tone? You can write it in first or third or even second person. Have fun with it and see where you go.
After you’ve described the scene, you can see if the piece wants to be transformed into something else. As always, send it my way if you’d like to share it next week in the newsletter.
(I’m going to count my intro as my piece for this week.)