I need to chill out.
The good news is, I can see anxiety cresting within me like Lake Michigan’s waves on a windy day.
If you see it, you can fix it?
I should have never let Henrietta come with me to water the flowers. There’s danger everywhere! We were on the raised patio and I was lifting the impatiens with my left hand and pouring water from the pitcher with my right when I caught sight of four black paws picking up speed and heading toward the edge—a three foot drop. (I didn’t want to exaggerate so I went and stood at the wall’s edge—taller than my shoulders—it’s over four feet!)
She landed with a thud and laid there stunned. I hopped off the wall and picked her up with gentle hands. My fingers ran the course of each leg. They’re growing lankier by the hour. When her pure white, needle-like puppy teeth grabbed hold of my forearm to wrestle me, I let out a sigh. She’s okay…I think. When her paws met the grass, she zoomed into the clovered food plot.
Overnight it seems, Henri has developed a wild and independent streak. I can’t say I’m surprised. I know it’s normal—necessary—been there before with two other pups. Still—I don’t like it.
I wish things were different—the cause of all suffering.
Already this morning I’ve looked up iris toxicity, wondered why Henri didn’t finish every last piece of kibble from her breakfast (perhaps she’s full?), and I had to run her down before she jumped off a rocky ledge along our driveway.
Why did we build on a hill?!
One of my biggest challenges is to quiet the anxiety that bubbles inside me for the safety of those I love.
I’m working on it.
It’s a darn good thing…
And with self-awareness, I can bounce too.