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Monthly Archives: April 2025
Today’s writing prompt is: “what are five everyday things that bring you happiness?” Well, my everyday may look a lot different to someone else’s everyday, but here are mine. I think a lot of people will agree with this: coffee. It’s a bit of a ritual: selecting a mug, smelling the aroma throughout the house as it brews, deciding if I want sugar and creamer, or sugar and whipped cream, or sugar and caramel….then just sitting, maybe on the porch if the weather is favorable, or tucked into a corner of the couch or maybe my library chair, huddled under a quilt and working the day’s Wordle and Connection puzzles. All makings for a pleasurable morning, thus, bringing me happiness. Before the rest of the world intrudes. And you know I’m gonna say my dog. I’ve always loved dogs, always had a dog. But I never had my own dog inside until a few years ago. And Chester even slept in my bed for awhile! A body needs a dog. He’s such a delight. He’s entertaining and a lot of company. As my aunt told me: “you needed something to take care of. You needed somewhere for your love to go.” She is right. Dogs are happiness, and it’s contagious. Reading by candlelight. I guess this is a two-fer. I love my books, even though I generally read on my iPad exclusively anymore. My eyes aren’t as good…
The WordPress prompt the other day was “What would you ask your pet if they could talk?” And my initial thought was, “Are you happy here?” but then I decided that was a waste, because any idiot can see that my dog is exuberant and ecstatic. He’s completely boundless, is what he is. So that would be a waste. Then I thought I’d ask him if he was hot, but that would be foolish, too, because what was I gonna do? Shave him like a llama? No. I was still thinking about it the following morning because I’m neurotic and thought I might perhaps ask him if he remembered his time before here, at the shelter or on the streets. But I didn’t want to bring up bad memories for him, or encourage a lot of questions that I don’t have the answer to. Then there was the possibility of what Chester would ask me. What if he desires a better standard of living? More trips to the Chickalay, more people visiting, more bacon and cheese? This wouldn’t do at all. So I decided that it was probably best we can’t talk to each other. However, if he was feeling poorly this would certainly have its merits. When he’s limping, I could ask if he fell off the couch or porch when I wasn’t home. If he was…
