Thursday, September 08, 2005

Getting Comfy

Baxter, our gentle giant, is also our cushiest canine.
He loves curling up on anything soft.

When we leave him out for the night (in the family room and kitchen), the Boos scrunches up the area rugs we have thrown on the floor to make himself a softer pillow on which to rest his head. Either that or he makes himself at home on the loveseat, pushing the throw pillows around until they suit his needs.

When outside, instead of spreading out, like Elsie does, on the wood-plank decking we have surfacing our deck, Baxter would much prefer to hang out on the deck furniture and its cozy cushions.

There's only one problem: the deck furniture doesn't have throw pillows.

So Baxter puts his head one way:

Then he tries it another way:

Then he tries again:

Until he finally gives up and listens to see if someone inside will open the door and let him in to where the real pillows are!

Silly Boos. Our exuberant, larger-than-life, 100-pound-completely-outgrew-the-breed-standard, adolescent male with a deep, resonating bark threatening enough to intimidate even the bravest prowler is really an old softie. :o)

He just likes to be comfortable. Just like me. Just like most of us.

Being comfortable isn't a bad thing, as long as it doesn't lead to complacency.

I'm thankful for the thousand ways each day I'm made to feel comfortable: from the smallest affirmations, to a "thank you" from a stranger, to having a soft, warm bed to climb into each night.

The word "comfort" has taken on a new meaning for me since the displacement of so many thousands from Katrina and her aftermath. And I'm far more thankful for the little things than I used to be. It's a good wake-up call, and a good reminder to be thankful.


Because, there but for the grace of God go I (and us all).

'Til next time,


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