183: Still Healing
When our dogs touched noses
the kind stranger, nodding to the
skittish creature at the end of his leash, says-
“She’s not always friendly.”
We humans know what that means.
It means we should walk with tenderness
and we should give her space.
It means we should let her make the first move
and we should be patient
and we should know
that the fur rising on the back of her neck
is not her fault.
She is still healing.
We humans know
that this short introduction means
that somewhere in her past
there was hurt.
Somewhere in her past there
was trauma
or fear
or long cold lonely nights.
We humans know that,
so we are gentle,
and we give grace
and we move with tenderness.
Our dogs touched noses.
The stranger introduced her hurt.
We decided to be gentle.
Couldn’t we all use that?
Written by Sarah Speed // Writing the Good
Recent Posts
See AllEvery night we sit on the couch. Your arm around my shoulders, my knees pulled towards my chest. We eat dinner. We talk about the day. The dog sleeps, belly up nestled on top of our sock feet. And eve