The possibility of velvet leashes.

"Did you know that Henry VIII of England had velvet leashes for his dogs?"
"Yes, Finnegan. I did know that."
"Impressive. But did you know that mine was a beautiful emerald green?"
Slight pause. Surprised eyebrows. "Pardon?"
"Katherine picked it out for me. She said it went beautifully with my coloring."
"Katherine. As in Queen Katherine?"
"Well the scullery maid wasn't in charge of picking out colors for each dog's leash," Finnegan huffed. The very idea!
"Oh. Certainly. NOT the scullery maid who also happened to be called Katherine."
"Human Woman, you are laughing at me again. I am telling you the truth!"
"You somehow managed to swim in the first Olympics in Greece and then Zip! You were living in 16th-century England at the end of a velvet leash in Henry VIII's household. Um. I really need to check the ingredients on your bag of kibble."
"I'm telling the truth."
Oh, the finely pointed nose sticking in the air was tempting. She kissed it. Finnegan wiggled in happiness.
"Someday, Human, someday you'll see."
"I don't think it's possible for me to time-travel, Finn."
Astonishment popped his big coffee-dark eyes. She really believed that? How nonsensical! Why, he had big plans for his history-loving-writer-woman. BIG PLANS.
"You might, " He advised her, "Seriously reconsider your archaic belief system."
"Finn. You might seriously reconsider whether you want a walk."
"I'm just sayin'," He murmured as he trotted off to fetch his 21st-century plain black cotton leash.
Crazy Corgi, she thought, reaching for her sneakers. Such a dreamer. Her fingers paused between the loops of her laces. Since when had she ever thought dreaming was silly? Hmm. Since never. Funny, she hadn't had any memorable dreams of late. Maybe it was time to allow them back in. Maybe her belief system was a bit rusty. It couldn't hurt to play along with the Corgi. Maybe he really did have the ability to show her something as fabulous as an emerald velvet leash at the end of Henry VIII's big hand. That would certainly be something. Well, she told herself, it never hurts to stay open to possibility. Finnegan made a soft noise from the doorway. He was ready. There was no time left. They needed to be going.

This particular moment.

They were standing in the center of a bamboo forest. It was an overcast day. The light filtering from the wide open top was muted. It broke apart against the towering fat stalks, shading their bark from lime-yellow to  deeper grey-green. Beneath their feet the dead leaves had accumulated in a soft, whisper-dry carpet of beige. It was intense in here. So quiet. So still. She could hear her pulse. She sat, cross-legged, and Finn climbed into her lap and licked her chin. Nothing moved but the cool, river-scented air and Finn's big ears. Twitch, flicker, twitch. Always on guard that one.
It came to her that perhaps this was what it felt like to meditate successfully. To be in a place of such enclosed silence that the loudest sound would be your own heartbeat...or your thoughts. She closed her eyes and lifted her Finn damp chin and let the breeze waffle through her eyelashes and kiss her on the lips and cheeks. She shoved her scrambling, shouting thoughts out of her mind and shut the door behind them. They knocked. But she turned her back. The knocking grew muffled as the sound of bamboo leaves rustled into her ears, louder than her thoughts, louder than the breeze, louder than the dust motes falling pit-a-pit-a-pit onto the leafy floor. The weight of the warm Corgi anchored her. He was unusually un-restless. Her hand patted his long back.
"Do you like it?" Finn whispered.
"Very much, " She breathed.
"Thought you might. We can come back everyday."
"Good."
To have him pull her off the beaten track into this little sanctuary created by sun and wind and earth and seed was a blessing. It was always a wonder to her that when Man stayed out of it, Nature strode in and let loose her magnificence.
"How did you know this was here?" She asked.
"Oh. The butterflies were singing about it this morning when we were out picking the last of the blackberries."
"Of course. The butterflies." She smiled down at him.
"Do you know what I like best about this place, Human?"
"Tell me."
"This is the only time you and I will live in this particular moment. The only time. And it pulls you into it and holds you hard...and you actually stop and feel the entire moment. How often does that get to happen?"
She was perturbed. He was right. She rarely had time to stop and actually be in the moment of what was happening, as opposed to remembering it later. How startling the difference. She needed to keep this close. She needed to remember this. She needed to come back and sit among the bamboo with Finnegan until Being became second-nature.
"Is this what it's like to be a dog?" She whispered.
"Always. We don't waste a minute thinking about tomorrow. We're too busy feeling today."
So they sat awhile longer, enjoying the silence and the togetherness and the sounds of the bamboo forest growing all around them. And then it began to spill fat, chilly raindrops and they made a giggling dash for the car. But for the rest of the day she was suspended in a comfortable, happy bubble of Now. Finnegan, knowing he had accomplished yet another task on his list of Very Important Things, spent the afternoon engaging in some very serious in-the-moment napping.

Do what you do best.

Twilight. The sun had set in streaks of apricot. A cool breeze had come to life and was whispering among the meadow grasses and Black-Eyed Susans. Finnegan was walking his human, looking for the perfect spot to, well, you know, do his business. But as he trotted along an embankment where his favorite patch of Baby's Breath grew and the fuzzy Bumbles liked to roam for pollen, his ears pitched forward at a softer than soft sound. He stopped short. His human froze and whispered, "What is it?"
He gave her a smile over his shoulder before pointing his nose to the edge of the embankment.
"Look down there."
She  tiptoed forward and peeked over into the dark ravine where she could hear water rippling over stones below. And then she saw it. A blink. And then another. A fresh burst of cricket chorus rose into the air and suddenly the world was lit up with dozens of tiny green sparks; the way her hands swooshing through the waters of the Gulf of Mexico could stir up phosphorescence at night.
"Oh!"
"Yes. Marvelous aren't they?"
She looked down at him, and he was thrilled to see her eyes filled with wonder.
"Fireflies! Finnie, I haven't seen fireflies since I was a tiny person! I forgot how lovely it is to watch them."
"They want you to watch them. Didn't you know? The night is their stage. They keep hoping at least one human will stop and watch and understand."
"Understand what?"
"That this is what matters most. Allowing yourself to do what you do best. Stop chasing things that don't really matter. Just do what you do best. You don't see fireflies trying to be birds. Or butterflies. Or Peacocks. They're fireflies. It's simple. They do what they do best. And they create beauty for the rest of us to enjoy."
"We humans are pretty crazy, huh?"
"You don't need to tell me that. But you do make awfully swell snacks."
They watched the lights dancing and flickering, at one point she swore they did an impression of  The Wave. After a bit, Finnegan tugged on the leash. He really needed to go. So they ambled along to a place where prying fireflies could not see and point and giggle. He took care of his business. Then she took care of his business. And then they wandered home in a swirl of cricket song and bright lights and breezes. And she thought how right the little Corgi was. Do what you do best and you'll be more spectacular than when you try to do something that doesn't fit. Wanting to be a peacock doesn't make you a more impressive firefly.

Some goodbyes are good.

His human had been strangely quiet all day. At one point she had sat down on the floor and put her head atop her knees and made that soft crying noise he hated. He clambered up onto her shins and nudged his face into hers, licking that awful salty stuff off her face.
"Oh! Finnie! It's OK. Really! It's Ok!" She protested.
"You're leaking water! It's a disaster!We could all drown!"
"She burst out laughing and snuggled his anxious face between her hands and held it still. Her wet eyes were smiling into his.
"Finnie. I am crying because our home is no longer ours. And I'm sad and happy at the same time. I couldn't make it a home for us anymore so now, maybe someone else can make it a proper home. And you are here and we are safe. Who knows what will happen next?" She nuzzled his wet nose. "It's an ad-ven-ture." She whispered.
He wiggled his stubby tail and barked with relief. He LOVED adventures!
"Do we get to wear pith helmets and pants with lots of pockets for treats?" He asked.
"Absolutely."
"Well then. Let's get going!"
"Maybe we should just start with a walk and some Pupperoni? I'll look into the pith helmets tomorrow."
He smiled up at her. She looked better when her face was dry and smiling. What a relief!
"Human person," he said thoughtfully, "I just want you to know that you are my only home."
She bit her lower lip and then sat back down and gathered him into her lap in such a fierce hug he squeaked.
"Thank goodness for you!" She whispered into his big ears. "Thank goodness for the love of my little Olympian!"
"The love of your awesome, wondrous, amazing, stupendous Olympian!" He barked playfully, giving the side of her face a big wet one.
Magic. He would show her all of it! Then she wouldn't mind so much, not having that particular house anymore. With him leading the way she was going to have so much fun living in the world she would feel at home no matter where they journeyed together. She would learn what all Corgis were born knowing: the person you love is your home, not four walls, a soft bed and a food dish. Possessions are not a home. A home is where your heart resides. And when someone loves you unconditionally, your heart needs no other shelter.

Every splash of the way.

"I can swim circles around this Phelps character."
"Highly unlikely."
"I can dog paddle circles around him! I can! I can!"
"Again. Unlikely."
"You don't believe me?"
"Finnie, your're terrified of water. Remember the swimming pool incident of '06?"
His ears flattened. His glance went sideways. Oh. She would bring THAT up. "It was a momentary panic! You went underwater and I thought you were never coming back!"
"You were flailing. I had to rescue you. I still have the scratches to prove it. No. I think swimming is not your sport."
An outraged Corgi is an amusing sight to behold. Four stubby legs suddenly squared off, matched by that singular penetrating stare. She grinned.
He was incredulous. "I'll have you know that in the very first Olympics Corgis took the Gold in ALL swimming events. We can dog paddle like nobody's business."
"The very first Olympics did not have Corgis."
"Where's your proof, Woman?" He barked.
"Proof? Oh...wait...let me think about this one for a moment." She tapped her forehead and pursed her lips, feigning serious thought. Then she snapped her fingers and smiled, "Oh, yes! I read it on the internet!"
She left the room. Laughing. But he trotted after her, not to be outdone.
"You did not! I was there! I swam against the Muses. I beat them fair and square."
She bent down and traced the ski strip running from forehead to nose tip. She smiled. She smooched him between the ears where his red fur was softest. He melted. He laid down. He licked the tip of her nose.
"Ok. Ok. You're forgiven. Can we have treats now?" He asked.
"And what treats would my little Olympian like today?"
"I want one of those sammiches Michael Phelps eats...."
She plunked down onto the floor beside him and they both started laughing. They debated the merits of turkey on whole wheat or roast beef and provolone. They decided on bacon and turkey. She got up to go get her car keys, but turned a second later and looked down at him, her expression serious this time.
"Finnie?"
"What?"
"I believe you could out dog paddle Michael Phelps. And I would be there cheering you on, every splash of the way."
He smiled, "I love you too, Human."

C'mon! It's morning!

Clearly there was something unusual to the start of her day. It involved a 30lb Corgi sitting on top of her head. And a mouthful of wiggling, happy dog fur. She reached up with both hands, tugged once and he rolled down onto her chest. Before she could draw a proper breath she was being swabbed by a Gene Simmons-like tongue.
"Pffft! Finnie, stop!"
"But you need help waking up!' He insisted. 
"Blech! You need toothpaste!"
"I don't do toothpaste, I do chew bones. C'mon! C'mon! C'mon! It's MORNING!"
He scooted off and snuggled into her armpit. Still wiggling. She wondered how such a long dog could squeeze himself into such tiny spaces. 
 "Because one size fits all when there's love involved," He told her.
She grinned. Mind reader. He smiled back, panting. Time for breakfast. Time for leashing up. Time to go say good morning to wild rabbits and the cat next door who liked to kiss him on the nose. She sat up. Finnegan bounded onto the floor and scurried over to the door. "C'mon! C'mon! C'mon!"
Oh boy. Her little Olympian was full of piss and vinegar today. 

A little history lesson

"You know, " Finnegan announced during breakfast," Corgis are descended from the Greek god Hephaestus."
His human stopped stirring cream into her coffee, "Beg pardon?"
"Just thought you might be interested...with your love of history and all."
"He was the god of fire. What does that have to do with your breed?"
"Fire? Nothing at all. Do you want to know the story?"
She sighed and pushed the coffee mug aside. Clearly this was going somewhere.
"Should I be taking notes?"
"You're the writer. You might want to...it's pretty interesting stuff. Go get your notebook and pen, I can wait." He began licking himself, chubby hind leg pointing skyward like a gymnast.
"Such flexibility. Perhaps you are an Olympian," She quipped.
He paused, peeking at her from beneath his leg with one of those unfathomable expressions. She got the hint and went and fetched notebook and pen. Once she was settled back in her chair,  he plopped down his leg and began waddling back and forth across the living room carpet as any proper orator.
"Hephaestus was having trouble with his wife, Aphrodite. She was fooling around with Ares and Heph was jealous. So he was wandering about Lemnos one day feeling all sorry for himself and came across a very pretty maiden herding her beautiful white geese to market. So he did what any self-respecting male god would do...."
"He had his way with her?"
"Quite. And she conceived a child. When it was born it was a beautiful boy with rather large ears, like his daddy."
"Large ears."
"Yes. Hephaestus was known for his protuberant ears!"
"He was known for his lameness."
Finnegan sat. He stared. He waited. She could hear him thinking the word "smartass".
She grinned, "Go ahead."
"So the maiden blabbed about the baby's father to all her girlfriends who told all their girlfriends and a few goats. Poor goats. Humans were always confiding in them. The goats found it irritating. They just wanted to do goaty things like nibble grass and poop and make cheese. Stuff like that."
"Indeed.Goaty things," Her eyebrows lifted.
"But in those days no human could really keep a secret from the gods. One of the goats climbed up Mt. Olympus and gossiped. Aphrodite found out and flew into a rage vowing to smite the child on the rocks...or burn it in her husband's forge...or have Zeus turn it into a cactus or something like that."
"Do you have footnotes for any of this?"
"Don't interrupt. Hephaestus, hearing of Aphrodite's anger through the same godly gossip grapevine, hurried off and found the girl and her baby and immediately turned the child into a Corgi! So when Aphrodite showed up all hammers and tongs, there was nothing more than a very pretty girl and her dog herding a bunch of geese in a meadow. And that is how the Corgi became known as both a herding dog and a descendant of a Greek god."
"Wait. There's always more to these stories. Did Aphrodite do anything?"
"Oh. She turned the girl into a boulder."
"A boulder."
"Yes. But it's okay. The girl was a bit of a flibbertigibbet. No one is even certain if she noticed. Hephaestus brought the dog to live with him at his forge. He made beautiful golden collars for it and lavished it with attention. The other gods became so envious of the devotion the Corgi showed to Hephaestus that they all started creating dogs of their own. That's why we're known as Dogs. God backwards and all that. The proverbial joke on mankind. It's true. We are descended from the Olympians. Which is why I think you might start feeding me something a bit more...god-like. This kibble crap isn't fit for any living creature."
"Oh. I see. And I should be feeding you roast oxen? Grapes? Wine?"
"Roast oxen would be a fine start. But no grapes. I dislike grapes. Maybe a bit of melon though....wrapped in some prosciutto..."
"I see," She flipped the notebook shut. "Who taught you this history of the Corgi?"
"Oh. I read it on the internet."
He watched in disbelief as his human sauntered out of the room laughing.
"I mean it about the kibble!" He barked after her.