Puppy 1, Eeyore 0. Zilch. Nada.
The match is over, the crowd dispersed, the floors cleaned up, the last light out. The blue, while not completely gone, is lifted.
The happy puppy won.
Turns out that the power of optimism far outweighs pessimism in this girl’s world, especially when her inner happy puppy is as well-read as he is well-loving. A narrow, glum view of the world & its inhabitants was nothing compared to puppy’s all-encompassing, ever-hopeful heart.
Eeyore has gone to rebuild his home, patch his tail, and possibly write a melancholy little country music song. I wish him well, I know he’ll be back.
More when I get the thoughts straightened out. I promise. I leave you with Emily..
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
– Emily Dickinson