Yesterday Wren had an appointment for a dental at the vet an hour away. I’d been anxious about it for weeks. It was a great opportunity to observe my wild thoughts, my willful attention that insisted on ruminating on potential bad outcomes from anesthesia, mistakes, other things beyond my control. My rational mind kept repeating all the reasons it needed to be done. I conjured my mother’s voice saying, “It’s going to be fine, sweetie.” The tech was very reassuring and let me leave a shirt with my scent for Wren’s comfort in the cage. After I dropped her off, I drove down to the next town to visit a friend I haven’t seen for years.
She lives with her husband in a sweet spot outside the city, with a pond, a greenhouse, a couple of big dogs. We relaxed in the hot tub with coffee, and spent the next several hours catching up, appreciating the sights and sounds of a yard coming to spring life with birds and buds. I was so grateful for her kind company in her little refuge which helped me stay present instead of worrying about Wren, who hates to be away from me and is terrified of cages. And vets.
She was pretty loopy when I picked her up. Doggie Dentals aren’t what they used to be. It took all day. She’d been sedated, intubated, knocked out, tapped into an IV for quick response in case anything went wrong, monitored constantly, with a long recovery in a cage. They said she did great, no cavities, no attacking the cage, but they did pull one little tooth they said was almost out already. (So now she can whistle when she talks, like Heidi n’ Closet.) I’m grateful her teeth are bright and white like a young dog’s should be, and mostly that we both made it through our stressful day and home safely.
I was grateful to wake up this morning with all of us in this little household where we are supposed to be; I was grateful for the sunshine and warmth, for the beefly I saw in the flowers, for cheerful help in the garden, for the camaraderie of like-minded friends in zooms of two flavors, one political and one spiritual, from a local zoom to one that spanned states from here to New York and Alabama. In my first grateful gathering tonight, we talked about some of the questions offered by Grateful Living in response to the video “A Grateful Day.” The one that struck me to practice with this month is: “If you approached the day as if it were your very first day, what would you see, hear, feel notice? What would seem extraordinary? What would be heartbreaking?” I look forward to waking up tomorrow and taking these questions into my very first day.
Other gratitudes today include the cheese sandwich: mayo, mustard, Penzeys Sandwich Sprinkle, romaine, Havarti, prosciutto, and red onion, definitely a frontrunner for sandwich of the week. And early this morning, my first chuckle of this one precious day that will never come again: I was trying to remember the Czech poet-president’s name, because Mel tried Havel for a Wordle solution, and I was thinking Gustav Havel? Victor Havel? when it came to me Vaclav Havel. I’m grateful for the synapses still firing even if they’re not in a straight line.