No Better Medicine

I don't sleep well—haven't for years. Used to be drinking that kept me from a solid eight, now, it's anyone's guess. Last night it was Valkyrie. She was on me, not beside me, ON me most of the night—my slightest adjustment eliciting Oscar worthy groans and yawns from Her Majesty. Maybe I keep HER awake with my snoring, but no matter, there is no better way to start the day than this...stinky Frito paw in my face, fifty plus pounds of dead weight on my torso and the most expressive, expectant, soulful eyes in the Universe staring at me every morning like it's the first time.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, for me, there is no better medicine for depression than our dog. She takes me out of self every day and allows me to see the world through her eyes. There is nothing but this moment for her, every single one a miracle—balls, birds, car rides, frosty paw treats—it's all pure bliss. I am so grateful for these hours, small and monumental as they are.

I hope you are all having a blessed day.

Peace