Shoes vs. River the rescue pupPublished 10:00am Friday, October 19, 2012
“The mind can go in a thousand directions, but on this beautiful path, I walk in peace. With each step, the wind blows. With each step, a flower blooms.”
– Thich Nhat Hanh
There are days indeed when the mind goes in a thousand directions, but fall colors and scents, accompanied by soft breezes over hills and cornstalk fields rustle a feeling of peace.
In low spots, morning glories still twine remembering summer glory, fall asters sparkle in lavender and white, fall mums bend in the garden laden with morning dew. Inside the house, River the rescue puppy has grown a bit more: not much size-wise, but certainly in confidence.
At this point, my one-eyed wrinkled pup has decided that I’m not returning him to the shelter, nor to the rescue folks for a refund. In other words, he is home.
River knows he has a place, right here: two beds, toys, good food, love. This means that a certain furry rascal has felt secure in showing his true colors lately, despite his innocent face, even when caught in the act. Or maybe I should say his secret shoe fetish is now public. Yes, my boy has a thing for my shoes. He’s been outed.
Despite the fact that River has more Nylabones and chew toys than I can count as I trip over them, he thinks that my shoes are the most delicious chew toys ever. The death count among the shoe population has risen month by month.