I feel honored to be the only canine who’s ever bunked under your roof. How many dogs get to go with their mistresses to welcome a new baby into the family? I had a fear you people might have thought I’d act aggressively, but as you know, all I needed was a quick sniff. Thanks for letting me investigate Micah Nathan that way.
I feared I wouldn’t be able to accompany Midge on her trip to see you, which would have thrown me into a blue funk for sure. Did you wonder why I never left your yard while I was outside, even without a leash or a fence? It was because Midge was inside. My M.O. of sticking close to her is still in effect. Thanks for letting me sleep in her room when you could have insisted I spend my nights in the garage or even on the patio. I’ve never gotten to sleep near her at home but have plans to campaign for this upgrade when we get back.
I also want to tell you what a delight it was to play with Skylar. Thank you for sharing this my-size person so generously and not insisting she keep her distance. I feared you might. The dog bones she gave me tasted twice as nice. I’ll miss her “Hi, Jackie!” in the morning and her tender “Oh, Jackie” in that soothing tone she reserves only for those she loves intensely.
I apologize for leaving my full water bowl and food dish within Skylar’s reach one too many times. I guess when she washed her hands in my water, they weren’t all that clean.
And thanks for Saturday when Midge, Skylar and I went to the library so you could wash all the tile floors. I’m sure when you did it, you found a disgusting amount of my black fur in your wash water bucket. I apologize. The Florida sunshine made it hard for me to hold onto my coat. I was afraid you might not like me as much after that.
One more apology is in order. I’m sorry I tore up your copy of C.S. Lewis’ “A Grief Observed” when I shook it around. After everything that’s happened in recent months, it was just my way of expressing deep feelings.
After Pidge got sick, I never quite knew where my place was. I feared I might not have one. I got excited every time his car drove in the driveway, but it confused me when he was never the one to step out of it. Eventually his car stopped coming at all. Then Pidge disappeared, too, along with the head-pats he used to give, a very confusing time for me. I began to get fearful every time Midge turned to me with her coat on and said, “You stay here, Jack. I’ll be back.” I never knew for sure. That’s why it was so great when you let me come with her to your house. Thank you.
Looking back over this letter, I see I mentioned fearing five different things. None of them happened. What a waste of energy on my part! I should stop fearing anything in the future, too, like Midge’s upcoming trip across the ocean. I’m tempted to feel afraid for her safety without me there to watch over her. But since my fears usually don’t come true, I’m going to let that one go, too.
Love, and without fear,
”I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.” (Psalm 34:4)