Adaptability

As I fed our three dogs this morning, I noticed how well they were doing. The three of them, the two boxers and little Tsunami, all anxiously sat on the edge of the carpet. The aren't allowed in the kitchen while I prepare the food, so they sit and occasionally put one paw, then another, onto the kitchen floor - as if I might not notice this time. I see the creep and scold them, they retreat. Tsunami jumped back, bumped into Austin. A year ago, Austin would have growled his annoyance, testily relocating himself. But today he sat there, stoic and let Tsunami do a lap around him.

Time has helped. The first month Tsui was in this house, Austin refused to share the couch with her. She'd jump up, he'd jump down. But now they will flank me, one on each side, looking for love. Austin and Zoe do share a tighter bond than either do with Tsunami, yet I'm hoping, in another few years, they'll be buddies.

We all adapt. Strange, new and fearful new situations eventually become familiar. I wish I could have shared that with a friend who recently passed. She lost her baby, tragically, to SIDS and then her grief overwhelmed her and she took her own life. I'm sure her husband and all of her friends wish the same thing - that if we could have held her. Like I wish I could have held my brother. Been there to soothe the fear, the sadness, the overwhelming anxiety - just to help them through that rough bit. Help them learn that it will subside. That the sun also rises. We adapt, not matter how painful, we keep on living. With each breath we're closer to finding peace after the storm.