In a month's time, I had suddenly and unexpectedly lost my job (that day still haunts me) and had been unceremoniously cast aside by some boy (who actually turned out to be gay, but that's neither here nor there); and one warm-ish night in early spring I was getting in the shower after our walk when I found a tick on me, fangs holding on tight.
I yanked it off, threw on my robe, plodded heavily out to the living room (we were in a tiny one-bedroom, so it barely took five steps), plopped on the couch, and burst into tears.
Lottie didn't know what to do.
She watched me for a few seconds, shocked and confused, and then she jumped up onto the couch, climbed into my lap, put her paws on my chest, and stuck her face into my face, staring at me intently as if to say, "Mommy! Don't cry! It's okay - I'm here."
She's done that many times since. It always seems to work.
I can honestly say that, especially after the last year and a half, I wouldn't be here without her.
At this point, I'm not sure how much I believe God actually involves Himself with our everyday lives, but I know He must have had a hand in bringing us together.
She's my comfort, my snuggle-butt, and my sunshine, and I am better for being her mommy.
From last night.
"It's okay, Mommy - I'm here."
No comments:
Post a Comment