Yesterday Rob came into the room for the dog and, low and behold, there he was meditating and visualizing balls being thrown through the air or giant bowls of food at every turn in the road or whatever dog fantasy was flowing through his brain. He was in a stationary position and the louder Rob called to him the deeper he went into his relaxation mode. Not even a promise of a walk would move him to his feet. By this time, my spell was broken and I began nudging him as thoughts that our lovable 10 year old dog might have permanently crossed over the "Rainbow Bridge." Slowly he came out of his stupor and grudgingly followed his master out of the room and, I swear, grumbling under his breath about the lack of peace and quiet and could we please leave him alone, dog gone it.
Breathing in, breathing out, visualizing his favorite place--is this doggy heaven or what? Now when the music begins, he settles into his position and does not stir until the last chime has rung or --the only other activity that would propel him out of his prone pose-- the food bowl beckoning him for dinner.
|Is it time for meditation? 0h please. Is it? Is It?|
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