life

Went out to get Snoggy (he never wants to come in at night...I'm not sure if he's deaf, blind, senile, or what) and I heard it again--the earthworms tilling the soil, or the plants growing, or whatever it is that I described previously. All around me, some kind of subtle spring magic...constant, quiet, inexorable movement.... "I've lived here for five years and I never heard this before," I thought, "why do I hear it now?"

Maybe because I am less anxious, less continuously panicky, there are fewer worried thoughts churning in my head, so more space for hearing these kinds of things.... I walked slowly out toward Snoggy, and thought, "This is life... you get older, your parents die, but now you can hear earthworms..." Hmmm.

Snoggy rolled over when I came up to him, and absently I squatted down and rubbed his tummy, listening to the sound of life churning among the dry leaves... Then it occurred to me that maybe Snoggy doesn't come when he's called at night because he's hoping I'll rub his tummy, which I always used to do at bedtime, until I realized I was training him not to come when he was called but to wait for a tummy rub. Even though it's been years since I changed this habit in hopes of convincing him to come in quicker, he still just rolls over and looks up at me forlornly when I call him for bedtime.... It never occurred to me that that habit could last so long (retraining old habits is supposed to take relatively little time is you're consistent...) Poor old Snog, I guess he can have a tummy rub at bedtime, life's so short and at ten years old, Snog's remaining life is particularly short. After I rubbed his tummy he came right in with me. Silly boy. Silly me. Habits are harder to change when you have a lot of feelings wrapped up in them.

Life's funny isn't it.