The snow was gone. Then it wasn’t.
And I woke up with what felt like a nest of snakes in my chest, wound up and crabby. At work, three of six techs were sick, two of them at home. I was sure every surface I touched was covered in germs.
And at work, we have been seeing a smattering of dogs with vague GI signs. The season of snow melt and likely these canines hoovered up what treasures they found in the mud.
And I have lived in this city for 16 years, and never have been to the ER. How come I have been there twice with others (one chest pain, one flu) in the past 10 days? Today, it was packed in their waiting room, and the nurse and MD said they’ve been slammed, no apparent explanation. At our clinic too, crazy. I had barely time to exhale Friday.
With this level of stress, Tiny Dog’s job role is clearly apparent. We pause for a moment to talk to her, to lean down to pick her up, feed her a few cookies. We exhale. She wags her tail. She dances, she sneezes, she yawns, she leans on your calf, she does downward dog yoga pose. All for a treat.
The snow from last night is melting. I didn’t even shovel the sidewalk. The maple out front had a few blackbirds shreeing from its branches when I pulled up. Under the snow, tulip leaves just just up.
Tomorrow there will be more cookies.