Hints of Spring

Hints of Spring

I find it funny that I chose root as my word of the year and the first two months felt  anything but rooted.  Not only were there two trips (one that catapulted me across the country and another that catapulted me right back to my couch to recover) but a winter cold knocked me out not once, not twice but three times.  And then we made the decision to adopt this little guy.


Schedules be damned.  Who cares about sleep?  Living rooms are meant to have small wooly pink pigs and green frogs dotted amongst twigs and leaves picked up from endless trips outside, right?  Because he has these eyes that get teary when he’s tired and squinty when he’s mad and they make me answer yes.

We named him Reese after Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.  He has wrinkles on his forehead and lips, black tipped ears and a gray and white chest.  The pads on his paws are all black except for one, which is half pink.  His tail has a little kink at its tip.  The vet looked him over and said ??? about his breed.  He likes to be held when he’s tired and gives me a soft little tap with his nose when I tell him to be “oh so gentle.”

But he also only sleeps a few hours at a time.  He pitches a fit when it’s time for bed.  He swears he doesn’t have to go potty when he’s shivering pitifully outside and then decides otherwise once back in the warm house.  He bites ev-er-y-thiiiiing…plants, cords, blankets, us, Fisher’s tail, his leash, his shadow, the air.  The three of us look at him beleaguered but understanding.

After six days at home (but who’s counting), I snuck out for a few hours on Thursday and soaked up the March issue of Southern Living while getting a pedicure.  I popped in the coffee shop for a chai tea latte and sipped my way through Target before picking up two new pillows for the front porch.  I came home feeling like a new person.  Getting out of the house is good.  And so, in that spirit, we took Reese for his first country drive yesterday.

We drove familiar narrow roads, passed mended fences, baby cows and old barns before getting to my favorite covered bridge.  It was surrounded by white blossoms and slanted sunlight. We walked around the field.  Camellias, all different shades of pink, were just starting to bloom and a small waterfall tumbled across flat rocks into the creek after a few days of rain.  We stopped for a kiss underneath the covered bridge before walking back to the car.  Reese bunny hopped between us, delighted as we were at the first hints of spring. I stopped for a moment and turned back to look again before looking down at our new boy, for it’s in moments like these I realize that even the youngest (and bite-y) of roots nourish.


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