I realized this morning as I was feeding Ginger that I’ll never know some of her favorite things. She will never have the ability to tell me, “when you refresh my water, that is one of my favorite parts of the day.” I am a sucker for humanizing my dog - I know she'll never actually say those words although I daydream that kind of relationship with her.
In thinking through this a little deeper, I realize she does let me know when she likes things: she will go crazy, lightly howl like Chewbacca with her head pointed up if someone takes the time to scratch her bum. I won't dignify her relationship with wood and her desire to digest it like a good bone. I swear she smiles after a long run, after she has tried to down the entire contents of her water bowl, after she has strewn herself across the floor and let the water drip from her jawls, she looks at me and I notice a wide-rimmed smile forming through the space that is her heavy breathing. Her eyes glitter a bit too.
I write about favorite things because I woke up in bed this morning and soaked in the moment. The down cover lay over me barely enough to create a small opening that let cool air slid in under the blanket. It felt good, cooled my sleepy skin. The pillows were puffed up and doubled under my head like a cloud. I watched Andy get dressed for the day as I lounged in the sweet softness of it all. I thought about how simple treats can feel so good. The warmth found holding a cup filled with coffee and how some days I prefer a specific shaped cup. My preferences for these things are silly in ways and yet define me as well. It’s important to consider because the little things get me through the day. These are the things to be thankful for when there aren’t bigger fish to fry, like winning the lottery or new contracts or bigger life celebrations.