Discombobulated

Discombobulated,
anxious,
all because of a
twelve-pound dog
who found me at a
truck stop ten years ago
and made me fall in love.

While he’s in surgery,
it’s like I’m at the hospital
waiting room in 1986,
while my mom is having
open heart surgery.

Love isn’t reasonable
or logical.
It just is.

When we give our
heart and love to
someone,
no matter who
or what species,
that’s that.

We worry,
we fret, we pray,
when they aren’t well.

When they are well,
we enjoy their presence,
the little ordinary moments,
the laughter,
the comforting habits.

My little ball of fur
is part of my ordinary moments,
the laughter of my and my husband’s days,
and definitely part of comforting habits.

Obviously there is a difference in
waiting to hear if your mother is
going to live through surgery
and waiting to hear that your dog
is doing ok after surgery.

The heart doesn’t know this.
It just squeezes tight and
prays all will be well.

© Elaine Wood-Lane
6/5/15