TURN CIRCLE

  My son, daughter in law and their dog were here for a long weekend before making the leap north (Chicago). It is a task, seeing everyone who needs to be seen, never enough time. While everyone was in the kitchen, Felix (dog) and I were in the living room, not that he was interested in me, quite the contrary. He was totally engaged with his own thing, looking out the window, listening, moving one ear then the other. On the other hand, he had my undivided attention. He lets me pet him now and it has taken years to gain that privilege. Satisfied with the yard and passing cars he hopped up into a plush, upholstered chair, dropped his head slightly to the right, turned a full circle and lay down. 
I love it. Nothing is simple or uncomplicated if you pay attention. It meets some paleolithic purpose I’m sure that has survived their domestication. Circle before you lie down. Maybe it corresponds with humans, men and boys in particular, picking their nose. Buried in the subconscious we harbor a dog-sensibility. Good thing we lack the flexibility to lick our butts. But watching a dog turn circle is no less engaging than lady bug beetles climbing to the highest point before spreading wings and taking to the air. I love watching that too. 
Imagination + language = story and that is the equation that truly separates us from the other animals. It is the difference between Felix barking at squirrels on the fence rail and Clapton picking out, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” In the past week I have written several times but nothing came out that I would share. My stuff can lose its way with condescending views on what is wise or good or not so good. If not human nature then certainly I think it cultural bias to believe we have something important to say. I start out with good intentions but then the voice in my head thinks it knows best. Sometimes I can’t help myself but when I can, I hit ‘delete’.