Monday, August 28, 2006

Puppies, Sunshine and Butterflies

After the angry posting from my new book, my Invisible Friends were disturbed. "Excuse me," they said, knocking politely. "This isn't very funny. We'd like you to make it funnier. We request a more amusing and light post. And nothing about brides. Talk about butterflies, sunshine and puppies. "

So, ever eager to please, here you go:

Puppies, Sunshine and Butterflies
Sunday morning, I got up before Ben. I walked outside into the warm air and began to water our flowers. Several butterflies came and fluttered near the blossoms. They landed on leaves and open and closed their wings slowly, patiently. They were waiting. But what were they waiting for?
After breakfast and working out, our friend Bryan brought over his new puppy. As I stroked it's soft head and let it chew on my hand, I couldn't help but laugh at it's antics. It pranced about our living room, pouncing on toes and attacking mislaid fingers. Even Ben remained quiet when the puppy considerately peed on the towels set on the floor. The puppy snuffled and went from person to person. He lingered on me though. He climbed on my leg and climbed up my chest to chew on my hair. Digging at my inner thighs, he'd scamper over and delicately brush his tiny teeth over my feet. It tickled and I laughed and rolled around the floor as he followed me.
When he grew tired, he climbed into my lap and curled into a ball. I stroked his tiny body as I watched it rise and fall with his breaths. Occasionally, he'd look up at me with sleepy eyes. "Oh good," he seemed to say, looking relieved. "You're still here."
When he crawled between my breasts and laid his head on my heart, I watched as my breaths caused his body to rise. His mouth would twitch slightly, as though he was trying to nurse. And with that, he had stolen my heart.
"How come all dogs love you?" my husband asked, annoyed the puppy continued to play with me and ignore him and his owner. "What is it about you?"
"They know I love them," I replied with a smile.
"Or you're just a giant sucker and they can sense that," Ben laughed. Later, the puppy had curled up in his lap, and Ben looked down with understanding eyes. They raised to mine and echoed everything I was feeling. "I think it's time we got a puppy," he said, smiling.
"He's cute," I said.
"So are you," he said softly.
So although we reluctantly had to give the puppy back to his daddy, the ache hasn't stopped in my heart. I feel like once I connect with a dog, I always feel like I should be with them. It's like that with my dogs back at my parents, with my mother in law's infamous chihauhau. And now, with Bryan's new puppy.
All day I thought about getting a dog: the responsibility, the finances, how I would have to clean so much more, babyproofing the house. I had convinced myself that we couldn't possibly afford one, and I was desperately going to have to get a job. Depressed, I walked outside.
As soon as I hit the sidewalk, they came. Hundreds of butterflies came from out of the blue, as if they just appeared. They swirled and flew gently around me, flowing my path and tracing my fingertips. The wind was blowing slightly and clouds were gathering over head. The smell of rain was in the air. Still, they continued to come. I stood still and looked around. No one else stood on the street. No one else saw the flow of butterflies that enveloped me like an ocean. They covered me in a thick blanket of gently pulsating air, gently touching my cheeks.
"Have faith," they seemed to say. Within their gently fluttering wings, they held all answers.
"Things will happen the way they are meant to. We will bring the puppies and bring the jobs, just like we bring you happiness. But just like happiness, we come and go sporadically. We can not be planned, and will not be planned. We follow the sunshine and the wind. Some times, the sun doesn't shine and the wind blows to hard. Sometimes the sun shines brightly with a cool breeze. That is where we come in you see. Trying to catch happiness is like trying to catch a sunbeam. Just let it warm your soul."
"When will you come back?" I cried, running after them as they floated toward the hills.
"Soon," they said, twirling around my legs. "Soon."