Your Majesty

Days like today are a rare gift — a seventy-degree New England November day. Ted could not have been happier with the weather. There was a bounce to his step on his walk, and he promptly plopped in the driveway and flat-out refused to go back inside at the end of it. It was like he was saying, “Mom, we have to soak this up while we can. It’s going to be a long winter,” and so I grabbed a chair and sat down next to him on the lawn. He watched the leaves falling from the trees as he got comfortable, nuzzling himself into the soft, still-green grass. His eyes got heavy with sleep as the wind caressed his fluffy whiteness. He would occasionally lift his head as a stronger-than-usual breeze came across our little slice of heaven, and I refer to this look as the majestic Ted. His ears flow in the breeze, lifting ever-so-slightly, and he looks off into the distance, at nothing in particular, just enjoying the soft, supple caresses of Nature’s gentle kisses. All of us who walk Teddy have learned to pause when he gets into his “majestic” pose. We all understand that he is simply appreciating the here and the now — the breeze, the oxygen, the light, and the being. Just being Ted. Just being majestic. Just appreciating the simple gift of a warmer than usual November day in New England.

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