we had a few family members over last night for christmas eve. it was roxy’s first time being surrounded by people in the house. she loved it. spent the entire day/night hopping from one lap to the other, just soaking up the love. and as I watched her (I got very little puppy love last night, seeing as I was infinitely less interesting than the new people–I do, after all, live here) I became…just…mesmerized.
every time she would hop to a new place, she would sort of excitedly wiggle her way around until she nestled into just the right spot. and then she would just sink in and be.
besides being undeniably adorable, it actually made me a little envious. she so clearly knew exactly what she was looking for–the perfect spot, and somebody to rub her belly or scratch her ears–and when she got there, had the sense to stay and enjoy, no questions, no apologies, no worries.
what a gift. and it made me, the one who hates to be touched and has a half dozen invisible walls and fences and barriers up at any given moment, all of a sudden feel that tug in my gut telling me, “It’s time. It’s okay. You can give that much of yourself to somebody.”
all of this work this past year, fighting through recovery and trusting people to help me. trusting my treatment team and trusting the few people I would reach out to when I was struggling, and trusting myself. allowing myself to love other people; allowing them to love me.
and here I am, brought to all of this contemplation by a twelve-week-old bundle of fluff and love who doesn’t even answer to her name yet. it’s a beautiful christmas gift. : )