i laughed when i saw this in person & i laugh every time i see the photo. clearly atlas is protesting. (though i have to wonder why, since he is not a beach dog. maybe it’s like the bathroom door. it’s not that he wants to come in anymore; he just wants to know he has the option.)

atlas has friends everywhere. some of them have met him in person. some of them haven’t.

sometimes i wonder if people love atlas because of who he is, or if they love him because of how i write about him. i decided that it’s a little bit of both. of course atlas is wonderful – he’s atlas! but i also write about him in a way that lets other people get to know him.

i was thinking about this (while walking atlas, of course) when i realized something important.

dogs are experts at showing us who they are.

i don’t want to go swimming!

i ate that cat poop & it was delicious.

i don’t care if i’ve only walked five feet. i am hot & i am done walking & i want to lie down in the grass.

can i come? please?

i love you.

dogs always tell the truth about themselves – without apology or shame or hesitation.

i can think of so many times over the years when i didn’t tell the truth about myself.

i’d love to go out with you. but instead of meeting for drinks, i’d rather meet for coffee.

i agree with [those people you are currently ridiculing].

i like young adult fiction! in fact, i often prefer it to adult fiction.

i do want to come dancing this weekend. but i’ve never gone before – i wasn’t allowed to dance when i was growing up – so would you be willing to tell me what to wear & what to do?

i love you.

instead of telling the truth, i lied, or made excuses, or said nothing.

i was afraid that if i told the truth, i would be shamed or judged or rejected.

when i look back, i can see that it was just the opposite.

if i had told the truth, it would have deepened existing relationships, and it would have been easier for the right people to find me & love me.

yet another life lesson i could have learned from my dear wise atlas.

yesterday was an 80 degree day – possibly the last in a stretch of warm & sunny days for a while. i thought about taking atlas for a hike, but didn’t really feel up to hiking. (i lost my breath while in providence and it isn’t quite back yet.) besides, do you know what atlas likes to do on an 80 degree day? he likes to lie in the sun until he’s hot, then lie in the shade until he’s cool, then repeat repeat repeat.

instead of hiking, i took a pail of carrots and a vegetable peeler out to the picnic table. when i was finished, i sat on the ground in the sunshine.

i listened to the chirp of the birds & the hollow roar of the wind through the pines behind me. i watched brown leaves & white pollen & a black & yellow striped bumblebee fly past me. i scrunched my toes in the grass & felt the earth beneath my seat. i drank ice water with tiny flecks of dirt in it. i felt the wind in my hair & the sunshine on my face.

while i sat there, i thought about conversations i’ve had in which people tell me that they want to [insert something that involves doing very little] but they should make the most of the nice weather.

i decided that as far as i was concerned, i was absolutely positively making the most of the nice weather. i suspect atlas would agree.

atlas says: woof! i am on vacation!

and so he is. i am off to providence to spend two weeks with my sister and her family. atlas will remain here, to enjoy the sunshine & some much-needed time off. (keeping an eye on his person is a full-time job for my velcro pup!)

while i am away, i leave you this: a sunset-striped atlas and a reminder of your light.

people!

the arctic is melting! the arctic is melting! the arctic is melting!

i celebrated with a very long walk and a drink from every mud puddle. also, i peed on everything. (i had to reclaim my town-territory. the local dogs had probably forgotten all about me.)

wow, am i happy. and tired. it takes a while to stretch out my winter legs.

your friend, atlas

p.s. guess how i celebrated my walk? with a nap, of course!

that’s right! it’s time for another round of postcards!

i’m calling this one project happiness. it’s my cure for the winter doldrums.

all the details are here.

if you want in, i’d love to have you.

either way, i am wishing you sunshine + smiles + happiness.

your friend, atlas

today, following my excitement led me to create this.

because atlas likes me to tell him a bedtime story, and maybe you (&/or a beloved child) would too.

(want more stories? check out the story club! it’s like a fruit of the month club, only with lighthearted + delightful stories.)

a million years ago, i sent my coworkers a terrible + humorous parody of the 12 days of christmas featuring an adorable + saucy pup named atlas. (and by saucy, i mean energetic + inventive.)

a memory of the rhyme popped into my head yesterday in a moment of glee, so i scoured every single one of my digital archives in an attempt to find it. alas, it is gone.

gone, but not completely forgotten.

“on the first day of christmas, my puppy gave to me ..”

i don’t remember any of the items, but i think they mostly consisted of non-edible things atlas had eaten since moving in with me. like one half of a pair of camel-colored knee-high leather boots. or a couch. or a screen door. or a mattress.

how i love/d that adorable + saucy pup!

dear friend,

hello. how are you? is it winter where you are?

here, the world is white. it’s been snowing for two weeks and there is probably three and a half feet of snow on the ground already. it is somewhat unbelievable. yesterday, i shoveled a path to the shed and retrieved my snowshoes; i am really looking forward to using them. (i was trying to get to the garden to pick my last two bunches of kale. when i realized how deep the kale was buried, i turned away from the garden and toward the shed.)

these days, i am delighting in the unexpected. i read one of my poems at an open-mic poetry reading. (i felt brave. even though the poem made me cry.) then, atlas ran through the deep snow – over & over & over. (last year, he refused.) then, i was hired unexpectedly by a local cafe & am now training to become a barista. (it is seriously the most fun thing ever.) then, i gave my nephew lars a glimpse of my digital photo albums & he gave me the most enthusiastic praise ever. (BRIDGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

you know what i’ve been thinking about lately? truth and art and fiction. i like to find my truths, and sometimes i like to share them, but i’ve been wondering if the deepest truths are wordless – at least in a literal sense – and can only be expressed in feeling or image or metaphor or story. i started thinking about this when i gathered up a handful of my favorite story club stories to create a sampler. sharing it was one of the hardest things i’ve done thus far. upon reflection, i realized that it was because the stories give you a glimpse of me – the deeper me, the magical me, the me i don’t really know how to share at all. i didn’t realize this until i read them all together. the same is true of poetry; somehow it helps me convey the ineffable. i wonder if it’s because the deepest truths are qualities – a glimpse, a reminder of who we really really are.

i wish we could sit down together, perhaps with coffee and pie. i want to listen to your stories, and feel your truths, and convey just how wonder~full you are.

xo

p.s. i know. this is not a photo of winter. i am remembering the glory of autumn, for just a little while.