I gave in. It’s Thursday and I gave in.
I’ve developed a habit of getting a small dinner-to-go from 158 Main on Friday evenings. This is my way of bringing closure to the week with a different touch, though the word different is not exactly fitting since I always get one of two things: a BLT on rye or a Baby Spinach Salad with egg and cheese. But today is Thursday and I worked late, so I gave in and got a BLT… and a root beer too.
Evenings are spent advancing art projects. Silvio is using my pouches for custom jewelry pieces so I’m trying to replenish my inventory. The Beech Leaf pouch is doing well. I must confess that I am quite pleased with this particular design.
A couple of nights ago, I finished adding sleeves to MacGregor’s new coat. I used some of Roderick’s wool socks. I also added a border on the back end, also made with a portion of the socks. It’s a nice little faux leather coat. Much warmer than the old fleece one he’s worn for the past 5 years or so. Although when you think about it, this does not even make sense. His head, legs and paws are directly exposed to the elements. How would I feel with a warm coat on and nothing else?
There was a military emblem on the back, shaped like a crest. I immediately thought that a piece of Murray of Atholl plaid would fit there nicely. Since this was for his pup, I decided to cut and use the smaller tip from one of Roderick’s Murray of Atholl ties to affix on top of the crest. It is perfect for Mathias MacGregor of Atholl!
Fixing this little coat to keep my dog warm took some time away from my artwork, but it was so relaxing. In some ways, I think it was part of the ongoing process of making peace with loss and finding new ways of including my soul mate in my life even though I cannot see him.
MacGregor climbs into his new coat quite willingly. Perhaps he only does this to please me. Perhaps it does add a touch of comfort, at least in the cold winter wind. It’s funny to think that, centuries ago, his kind were wild and would have fought their way out and away from such confinement. I often ponder the circumstances of pampered, domesticated animals, especially when I observe the dog or cat retire to their favorite beds, carefree.
In many ways, this is not a normal life for them, yet one thought always comes to mind: what if it is somehow part of their normal evolution to end up living in the comfort of human homes? There is absolutely nothing to indicate that Marley and MacGregor do not savor long afternoons peacefully listening to public radio from their chairs, basking in a ray of sunshine from the window.
Life, after all, is about seeking a sense of security and comfort. It is about good food and play. It is about connection with others. They have all that.