I fed Sirius this morning. He had been meandering about doing dog things as I had been meandering about doing person things. After awhile, he started watching me, attentive to each motion. When I looked back at him, he perked up. "Do you want some breakfast?" I asked. He cheerfully led me to his dish.
It is a simple stainless-steel bowl, smudged about here and there with dog slobber and bits of fur. In it, I placed a cup of simple brown kibble and some water, much like we've been doing twice a day for years.
And this -- those simple brown chunks in that simple metal bowl -- it was the best thing that had happened for him all morning. He followed me to the garage, to the kitchen, and back to where he is fed, head held high and arthritic bones doing a little dance. He was a happy dog.
Turns out, it was a pretty good start for my day, too -- the familiarity of the routine, the mutual understanding, the joy of giving. I am grateful for my dog, and for the simple things in life.
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