Breaking the fast

This morning I was determined not to get stung. I gave Zoe a good morning hug, let her enjoy the morning sun during her walk (as did I).  I'll admit it, I felt rather proud of myself. With a beaming smile I chopped up Zoe's breakfast and sprinkled it with olive oil (for years I've mixed olive oil in her food to help with her skin/hair). I put her food down and went back to the kitchen to grab my food so I could start my busy morning of work in front of two laptops.

As you can see from the picture Zoe have me a quick sharp little bee sting. When I turned to sit in my work chair she was there...and wouldn't move. I looked at her confused and almost got annoyed until I realized I didn't break for the breaking of the fast.

For the first time I sat with Zoe and had breakfast. When I sat down to enjoy my meal, to savor breaking the night time fast, she jumped down from my chair. What surprised me most...she never once touched my food or begged for my food. It was very clear in that very intimate setting that there was a brief moment of respect and thankfulness of sustenance for the body and soul.

Pause for morning hugs

For the past few months I noticed this little dog was doing the strangest thing, she stopped at the bedroom door and just watched me. I'd hold her leash in my hand, call her name several times, and she'd just watch me...with her head tilted to the side of course. This morning as I got her leash for her morning walk I looked her and it finally hit me, was she pausing for a morning hug? My head then tilted to the side. I wasn't sure what she wanted, so I walked up to her and as I towered over her she didn't run under the bed (as she does when she thinks it's time for me to go to work and leave her).  I reached down and as I bent over she rolled over for a belly rub.  And after a quick tummy scratch she jumped in my arms for a hug.

It was like she said, "How many college degrees did it take you to figure that out mama?!?!"

If she can run, so can I

This morning my bee sting happened  during my walk with Zoe. Our morning potty times have ALWAYS been a challenge...Zoe likes to take her time, I want her to potty NOW! LoL I got stung when I realized that Zoe was sniffing the grass, embracing the moment, cherishing the morning air, finding the perfect spot to do her business. I just wanted her to hurry up so I could get to work because I was running late and she was taking too long! I cried because for years I rushed her because I did not plan my morning well, because I overslept and did not have time to give her 15 minutes to savor the morning sun...to let me savor the morning sun.

I smiled...the bee sting reminded me to savor the morning the sun, the sun is my gift. Just when I thought that was my lesson of the day that 11 pound ball of fur with a tumor the size of her heart started to run with the wind in her hair and a smile on her face.  Overweight, in my nightgown, flip flops, and messy hair I thought to myself, "If this little dog with this weight in her chest can run, so can I"...and we ran.

Painful reminders

Little bee stings are painful reminders that life is not always good, but that you should cherish the good. Many times we go days, weeks, months, without really having or acknowledging our little bee stings.

Some times our little bee stings aren't so little...they can't be ignored. We are going along with our lives, and WHAM! We are slapped in the face with the fragility of life, the sadness of tragic circumstances, and the unfairness of it all. My major bee sting came Thursday, August 30, 2012 at 12:48 pm when my dog's vet told me that my dog, Zoe-Joe, was in heart failure and needed emergency care.  The next 30 minutes were a blur, but I do remember attending a work conference call...a decision that now seems so completely stupid.

August 30-31, 2012 changed me forever. The initial diagnosis of heart failure was just the beginning, a tumor the size of her heart was also found. Everything is a huge question mark with the guess of 6-12 months to live tacked on at the end. My life, turned upside down.  There are moments when I look at her and she just cry; there are moments when I take her in my arms just to dance around the room.  The little bee stings are the 5% bad that hurt. They are when I think about the illness, the prognosis, and the end...the gift is the 95% good that makes me laugh, hug, smile, dance, cherish, kiss, live, remember, honor, and respect.  I am learning to be grateful for the bee stings because they are a daily reminder of the 95% that I kept forgetting every day before August 30, 2012 at 12:48 pm.