She Was Chaos To Her

Since Blunder has died, I have not walked around the block or rode my bicycle. What is the point? Plus I didn't want to walk into the other dog owners in my neighborhood and explain why I was walking dogless. Yesterday I was sweeping my sidewalk when a neighbor saw me and practically ran up to the house. This lovely neighbor is in her 80's and she, with her husband, always stopped so Blunder could play with her min-pins, Leo and Petey. They always made a point of stopping so Blunder, in her crazy flirtatious manner, could hop up to them on her hind legs, get petted, and bother the min-pins until they growled at her. Then we would continue to talk for a few minutes. This neighbor always called Blunder Chaos. I corrected her the first half dozen times and then I thought I'd just leave it at Chaos. Chaos seemed an appropriate name considering her behavior. So Blunder was Blunder to everyone but these neighbors, to them she was Chaos. Yesterday this lovely woman who thought Blunder was Chaos, approached me to offer her sympathy and condolences. We sat in the grass for about an hour talking about our dogs and our lives. We both cried a little bit. She said, "I thought her name was Chaos." I said no, it was Blunder. "That turned out to be an ironic name." Sure did. I petted her little dogs. She encouraged me to get another dog. I'm not open to that suggestion right now but she does have a point. There are a lot of dogs out there who will be euthanized unless someone takes them in. How many people would take the time to console a neighbor like she did for me? How many people are willing to allow someone to show their pain and explain their feelings? When we finished talking and got our mutually arthritic bodies off the sod and upright again, I felt so much better. Seems to me this week that there is a whole lot of sadness in the world today. Talking about it seems to lift the burden. I'll try to be a listener for someone else so I can help them like she helped me.