Miscreant Smudge

I love the way Pash bounces. All four feet of this three pound Yorkie patter along in rapid precision aimed straight for the destination of her choice. Yet, more than that, it is as if Pash hears some jaunty inner tune and dances with such joyous rhythm that one necessarily concludes: life for Pash is grand.

It has always been thus with my canine critters. Not one of them was ever a laid-back pacer. They all enjoyed a perky attitude about life and rushed to greet each new situation with exuberant expectation.

A gray blanket covers this day. Snow with all its harsh whiteness dominates the ground. Trees silhouette themselves black against the sky. Gray, white, black -- each a graveyard blend of the other. All monochromatically lament, mocking life with their pallid sighs.

If Nature were an amendable critter, it would be easier to teach it an attitude of joyous expectation. But no. Nature in northern climes is like a recalcitrant child throwing its snow toys around with wild abandon, then trying to mist over its miscreant behavior by covering all under a smudged gray blanket.

I find much more enjoyment in Pash's exuberance than I find in Nature's blighted mockery of life.
Miscreant Smudge © 2006 Chaeli Lee Sullivan