do you know that as of today, atlas has been with me for eight years? eight years! i cannot believe it.

in some ways, it feels like he's always been here. in other ways, it feels like i've hardly had any time with him and need at least eight more years. (at least.)

i was thinking about atlas and nature the other day and i realized that they elicit similar feelings in me.

there are moments when i look at atlas and i feel so much love and gratitude and joy that i can hardly stand it. my entire body wells up with feeling. he is full of sweetness and love and joy and a zest for life and he has been one of my greatest teachers. i cannot believe how lucky i am to have him in my life.

there are moments when i am in nature (particularly in the forest or by the ocean or when i see a bluebird) and i am so overcome by love and joy and beauty and wonder that i can hardly stand it. my entire body wells up with feeling. the best way i can describe it is to say that it feels like my soul is singing. i cannot believe how beautiful the world is and how lucky i am to be living in it.

so today, i will take atlas for a run on our favorite trail in the woods, and i will offer up a prayer of thanks for this moment, this puppy, this life. i wouldn't trade him (or it) for anything.

why, hello there!

i am happy to report that i am finally feeling much better. my tummy is back to normal and my body is almost there. hopefully elizabeth will take me for our usual walks and runs now. all this lying about is not good for a dog’s sanity.

i would, however, like to state for the record that i do not like my old harness or my new harness. i do not see why i have to wear them. elizabeth said something about necks and pain and collars but it didn’t sound important so i ignored her. i give her the big sad eyes look and stop and scratch often and make it very hard for her to put the step-in harness on. nothing seems to work. what does a dog have to do to get his way?

did you hear that i get to send out postcards! i can’t wait.

andrea shared a messy parenthood story on superhero journal yesterday. it made me think of my own messy stories, especially the ones i shy away from sharing because i feel particularly embarrassed. i don't know why this is exactly, i realize that we are none of us perfect, but somehow it often feels like maybe that isn't really true. that maybe everyone else really is perfect, and i am the only exception. it sounds so silly when i say it but it feels so true in my mind. anyway, andrea inspired me to share one of my own messy stories.

atlas has the best ears. they are soft like velvet and irresistible. but he doesn't like people to touch his ears or play with his ears. ever.

when atlas first came to live with me, he was a show dog, so we had to spend some time at dog shows.

i didn't love dog shows. the weather was usually hot. there were lots and lots of dogs around. there was stress and excitement in the air. atlas had to wear a show collar and if he pulled or i pulled, it would tighten around his neck, so i didn't like to pull. it just wasn't an environment that i felt at all comfortable in.

in the midst of all of that commotion, i was a brand new dog person learning how to be a dog person and atlas was an excited clever energetic empathic weimaraner puppy.

with all the stress and excitement and heat, it was often hard to get him to listen to me. probably at least once or twice during every dog show, when i couldn't get him to listen and really needed him to listen, i would run out of ideas and options and patience. the only thing i could think to do in those moments of frustration and helplessness was to pinch one of his ears to get his attention.

instantly, my beloved puppy would give this tiny little yelp. the yelp would break my heart and i would hug him and apologize. and yet, in another moment of frustration and helplessness, i would do it again.

it still hurts my heart to think about this. and i'm pretty sure that's why he doesn't like his ears touched. (well, that and regular ear infections.)

you know, i don't really know how to end this. i don't want this to be a story with a lesson or a nice neat ending. i just want to agree that yeah, life is messy, so i guess my messy story will have a messy ending.

it's no wonder that i never know what to say when someone or something wants to know the color of atlas. he matches all sorts of colors, from browns to greys. maybe weimaraners are camouflage dogs.

the pup is on bed-rest at the moment. he's not supposed to walk except for potty-breaks, and he's definitely not supposed to run. i am thankful for the late summer heat because it keeps him sluggish. if you have ever tried to rest an extremely active and energetic dog yourself, you know that they just do not understand the concept at all.

(no need to worry. i think he'll be ok. he spent one night last week yelping with pain but it seems to be slowly easing. my guess is that it's a pulled neck or back muscle that's affecting him all over. the trouble is that i can't get him in for an adjustment until later this month and the vet thought that if it wasn't that, it might be a slipped disc, hence the reason she wanted him to really rest.)

{an extremely irregular series inspired by kelly, in which atlas dispenses pearls of wisdom}

"sometimes you just have to let your people do what they want to do, in order to get some peace. besides, better a buried paw than a silly outfit."

atlas' latest kitty friend is polydactyl, meaning he has extra fingers on his (in this case front) paws, so it looks like he is wearing mittens. i could stare at his paws all day. they are adorable.

we met him one day while on a walk. he saw atlas and came sauntering over from his spot in the shade to say hello. they are now friends. whenever we walk by, he comes bounding over the grass or through the bushes to greet us. (the kitty's name is kiki; i just like to call him the six-fingered kitty. i blame "the princess bride" for that.)

when atlas returned from the doggy ranch last week, he was even more kitty-obsessed than usual. after all, he had gone nine (nine!) whole days without seeing one. so, when we went for our evening walk and ran into kiki, there was much rejoicing on all our parts.

atlas and kiki sniffed hello. kiki wandered around him for a while, slapping atlas' face with his tail. kiki settled himself on the grass by us. atlas sat and stared happily or stood towering over kiki as if to be sure he was ready to walk with him at a moment's notice.

atlas can sit and stare forever. i can not.

eventually, i decided it was time to move on. generally, atlas will test my conviction for a bit and then be ready to go. this time? nope. he was pretty sure that he was not leaving.

i pulled and ordered and pushed. nope. i begged and pulled and commanded. nope. i lifted his chest and maneuvered him in the right direction. finally, he gave in – very begrudgingly, i might add. we continued on down the sidewalk.

a few seconds later, what did i hear? a whoosh of air as kiki chased us down.

atlas stopped. kiki and atlas sniffed. kiki wandered under and around him, whap-whap-whap-ing his belly and face with his tail. atlas sat and stared happily.

eventually, i decided to try to leave (again). we went through the same routine (again). finally, i convinced atlas to continue on (again).

a few seconds later, kiki was bounding alongside us (again).

atlas and kiki went through their meet-and-greet routine (again).

repeat ad nauseum.

needless to say, it took a long time to get home that evening. (made even longer because we had to finally turn around and walk kiki back home again.)

if life with a dog were a boxing match, i'm pretty sure that round went to atlas and the six-fingered kitty.

(atlas comes home from the doggy ranch today. yay! i miss him. and i need some new atlas pictures.)

this photo makes me laugh. apparently dogs find watching the sun set extremely dull. atlas certainly does. this particular time, he found a way to amuse himself – by gnawing on the giant piece of driftwood on which i was sitting.

dogs are so silly.

there is a practice i find very useful in working with my fears, when i remember to do it. it’s from the book feeding your demons by tsultrim allione.

atlas was having health troubles over the weekend – it is likely that he is developing an intolerance to the one food he can eat – so i was feeling very sad and discouraged. during my process of working with my sadness and discouragement, i remembered the practice, and felt strangely moved to share the result.

deep breath.

i ask to see the fear of losing atlas.

i see a tall stick figure. it’s a bird with beady eyes and a giant beak. it might have wings but it is really hard to tell, possibly because the wings are just sticks dragging from the shoulders. the image looks awfully familiar. (now, as I write this, i think i know what it is. it looks like my memory of the drawing of that creature in the last book in the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe series – that creature that comes into the barn where they keep the donkey that they’re pretending is a god and picks up the people and carries them away.)

i ask the fear what it wants, what it needs, and how it would feel if it got what it needed.

i change places. as the fear, i answer my questions.

i want to grab atlas and squeeze him tighter and tighter and never let him go. i want to keep him with me forever. i want to always be as happy as i was in that moment when lisa opened the door and i saw his happy face through the screen door and fell in love.

i need you to treat yourself with love and kindness. i need you to know that you are worthy of both, to know that you are worthy no matter what, to realize your inherent value. i am afraid that without something external that reminds you that you are loved no matter what, you will forget, and things will go back to the way they were before. i am afraid that you won’t remember any of this without atlas here to remind you.

if i get what i need, i will feel safety and relief.

i change places.

i ask to transform myself into safety and relief. i see myself whooshing – like a genie going into a bottle – into a tall coke glass full of liquid with a bendable straw in it.

the fear drinks the liquid. (surprisingly, it has no trouble sipping from a straw with its beak.)

as it drinks, it begins to fill with color. by the time the glass is empty, the fear has transformed into a beautiful iridescent blue peacock.

i ask the peacock how it can help me.

i change places. as the peacock, i answer my questions.

i am here to help you remember your inherent beauty and radiance and worth and value. i am here to help you remember that everything you need is inside you. it lives in your heart. you are learning to access it. atlas is in your heart, and he will live there forever. you no longer need something external to remind you that you are worthy.

i can help you remember this by allowing your eye to catch the sparkle of sunlight on the wet grasses and flowers. when you see that sparkle, you will remember my message.

if you need to access me, put your hand on your heart and follow the sunshine. there is sunshine every day. you are learning to find it.

i change places and sit with all of this.

a zebra! in the wilds of my own home! can you imagine anything more delightful?!

last year, i named the moons (an idea from the wonderful book slow time by waverly fitzgerald). the august moon is the blessed moon of cold drinks, naps, and gelato.

the name of this moon seems ever so appropriate since as of today, i am on vacation. atlas is off to the doggy ranch, and i am off to the east coast to visit family. there will be a post on wednesday – i have another photo of atlas and a musing that i feel moved to share – and then i will be back next week, just in time for weimaraner wednesday.

until then, i wish you sunshine and laughter and moments of sweetness.

my computer is gone right now. it is at the apple store, where they are transferring all the files over to my new computer. hopefully they will both be home later today or tomorrow.

yes, i am finally upgrading my beloved eight-year-old imac. i have been procrastinating on this for well over a year and a half, and slowly working through the things that were in the way of me upgrading.

on monday, i was finally ready. and then i cried while i was driving to the apple store.

it turns out there was another reason i was procrastinating.

i got my computer the same year i got atlas. atlas doesn't look like he's eight, and i don't feel any older myself, so it is easy for me to forget that eight years have indeed passed. the decision to say goodbye to my computer reminded me.

so, i gave myself a mental hug, told myself that it was perfectly and completely ok that i might feel sad upon being reminded that the puppy i adore is getting older, and let myself be sad. now, i am enjoying his company while he is here – and soon, i will enjoy my new computer.