photo: flying Idgie - in November

Even darker than yesterday, with a light mist falling. The brightest
spot in the day was a visit from three dogs and their Mom.

Idgie, the youngest, is especially close to us, because she is the
closest we’ve come to adopting a dog so far. A couple of months
ago she stayed with us for a few days, to see if we could handle
her.

She’s a Jack Russell terrier, but with all the little imperfections
– a little too spotted, a little too long-legged – that make
her perfect. We loved her dearly, and for the time she was with
us I rarely left her side. She slept in her bed right next to me,
where I could put my hand down to pet her if she ever got lonely. We
taught her to sit. I got up to take her out early in the morning,
or in the middle of the night. I cradled her to sleep in my lap.

But in the end, she was too much for us. While she was here, our cats
hid in the basement. And we felt our age, exhausted at the end of
each day – perhaps, looking back on it, as we should be, but aren’t
(living life to the fullest). I’m used to living my life half full,
I guess, and the fullness of Idgie was a shock.

The good news is that her Mom, a good friend of Jenny’s, took her
back with open arms, and her adopted big sister, Angel (a beautiful
golden retriever puppy a few months older), too. It broke our
hearts to give her back, but it did them good to see Idgie and Angel
playing endlessly together again.

Idgie still visits often, and we go on walks together, too. To see
her race through the snow, ears back, powder flying, is a lesson
in joy.