better than perfect

Ok, I know it's only a matter of time before Ben shows his other, darker side but for now I'm just going to enjoy the utter light that he beams out into the world.

My friend, Jen from Fernie, BC, travelled here over the last couple of weeks - a kick-off celebration for our upcoming 40th's. We spent some time in New Hampshire and Maine and also drove up to the Gaspe Penninsula in QC for a few days (photo of sunrise). Ben has been getting acquainted with water, both in the form of rivers as well as tides. I wouldn't report that he's overly-zealous about the whole experience but he seems to trust enough to follow me in,.... to a point.


He's adapted to long roadtrips, fairly essential quality for someone who shares a life with me. He's beyond cute and attracts much attention in public (I've felt inclined at times to put a sign on my neck saying: "He's a Labradoodle. He's 11 weeks old. His name is Ben."). He has taken to sleeping through the night as long as I cut off his water intake at 7pm and one doesn't mind getting up at 5:30am. He's taken some good long walks in the mountains and valleys without complaint. On our last full day together, Jen and I wound up in the rain, a 2 hour soaker of a hike, and he took on a rather new look: half his size when he's soaking wet and inspiring great feelings of pathos. The photo taken in the bathtub was an attempt to warm up his chilled bones following the romp in the rain.


I can tell we're starting to nudge into rebellion. As I sat down to type this entry, he heard the voices of my neighbours through the trees and he let out his first attempt at barking with ferocity. When he failed to abide with my gutteral "Nhaaagh!" (the recommendation of one of my puppy training books), I dropped him to the ground and held him down until he relaxed under my dominance. Might as well take advantage of his learning curve (and my relative size advantage) to help him absorb healthy boundaries.

The summer is winding down here in northern New Hampshire. I'm ready for autumn. The leaves have given up their verdant quality and, while still appearing green to the naked eye, one can feel that death is looming in the life cycle. The nights are cool in the cottage now - okay, that never changed at any point over the short summer

I'm in my last month of work at the shelter. My replacement is to begin at the Clinical Coordinator post on the 13th of September and I'll show her the ropes until the 22nd. I'm pleased - for me, for her, and the shelter. Not sure what is coming around the next corner, other than my birthday -- but I digress. I'd like to spend the month of September getting paperwork in order for my professional license in NH. I'd like to spend September connected to Ben, investing the time in our long-term relationship. I'd like to spend September watching the autumn colours bleed in and then fall away.


My life is lacking nothing. When I think something is awry, it's me - an indication that I've allowed my own limited agenda to warp my perspective and dislocate my sense of utter connectedness. Life includes loss, pain, relief, learning, falling, standing up, falling again, laughing, and confusion. As much as I try to apply the rules of systems, analysis, and logic, life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be relished. Loving life is less about exchanging than creating, less about knowing than bursting open, and less about security than humour. Sign me up.