“Rolling in the Grass”

Bridget catching lounging in the sun

 

            From puppyhood, our dog Bridget’s loved stretching out in the sunshine. Her sleek black coat catches the sun’s rays. In some lights, she becomes glossy obsidian. No matter the temperature, she’ll lounge outside until she bakes. I think she has some internal censor that pings a warning just before her coat begins to sizzle.
 



Bridget getting ready to roll!

            At that moment, she rolls in the grass.

            Her delight oozes as she squiggles right-left-right-left, and often she grunts in pleasure. When she finishes this ritual, she heads to the back door, which she taps with her paw until someone opens it. But she doesn’t enter the house. Her back, covered with grass or other yard debris, demands a vigorous hand pat or brushing to clear her coat. And so she waits patiently on the back porch while one of us dusts her off.

            This morning’s cold didn’t hinder Bridget’s daily roll in the grass. The rare chill in our Texas air didn’t prevent her from gathering a little warmth from the spotty sunshine and then rolling in the dormant grass.

            Sometimes, I wish my own life could derive happiness in such simple ways. Stretching out in sunbeams—and rolling in the grass.

 

Copyright 2104 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman