The full version of this blog and audio version is only on our Patreon page. $5 a month is all we ask for your support of this blog made possible since 2011. We volunteer our time and energy and all resources. Help us by joining Patreon at www.patreon.com/2travelingdogsrescue
This is Fruitycake. Persons have a way of saving things for a better time to enjoy them. Can you imagine if I saved my pizza every time I got one? Come on, now. That’s ridiculous. In this Italy place, persons don’t share a pizza and cut it into slices. Each person—and dog, for that matter—gets their own. And I’ll tell you this. No part of that pizza is saved. It is devoured.
It reminds me of that song about saving time in a bottle. First of all, there is only so much room in a bottle. And us dogs know that a life can never, ever be put in a bottle. Because it is never ending.
Last week, we had rain!!!! Rain, finally, in this Italy place. To say we were overjoyed is an understatement. The heat finally gave way to clouds and rain that came down like marinara bubbling up! We stood at the open door and watched it fall on the thirsty ground. The trees lifted their tired leaves. The rocks turned darker. The air smelled new again. Even the whole mountain seemed to take one long, deep breath.
Girl Person could have said that we should stay inside and save the enjoyment for later. She could have waited for the rain to become lighter, for the path to become less slippery or for the clouds to stop making everything look so dramatic. But rain does not make appointments. It does not check your calendar or ask whether you are ready. It arrives when it arrives, and if you want to experience it, you have to meet it while it is there.
So we did.
I stepped outside and felt the drops hit my back. At first, I wasn’t sure about the whole situation because I have learned that water can be suspicious. Streams move when you are not looking, puddles hide things and baths are a complete violation of dog rights. But this rain was different. This rain felt like freedom. It washed the dust from the leaves, cooled the stones beneath my paws and turned the air from something heavy into something we could finally breathe.
For weeks, we had talked about rain as though it were a person who kept promising to visit and never showed up. Every cloud became a possibility. Every little breeze made Girl Person check the weather again. We heard thunder far away, but the rain always seemed to fall somewhere else. The plants drooped. The cistern waited. The streams disappeared. And our waterfall—the one that had always made this wild place feel alive—had gone silent.
Then, after the rain had fallen long enough, we heard something.
At first, it was only a distant sound beneath the drops hitting the leaves and the roof. But it grew louder. It was a sound we knew, although we had almost forgotten how much we missed it. Water was moving through the valley again. It was rushing over the rocks, finding the paths it had traveled for longer than any of us could imagine and gathering strength as it came down the mountain.
The waterfall was flowing again.
Girl Person stood there watching it as if she were witnessing a miracle. And maybe she was. Persons sometimes think a miracle has to be something enormous that changes the entire world. But a miracle can also be water returning to a place that had forgotten its sound. It can be a waterfall waking up after weeks of silence. It can be the trees receiving what they desperately needed. It can be hope returning when everything looked dry.
That waterfall did not save its water for another day. It did not hesitate at the top of the mountain, wondering whether this was the perfect time to begin again. It simply flowed. It poured itself over every rock in its way and filled the silent valley with its voice.
We did not try to save the rain in bottles so that we could enjoy it another day. We did not ask the waterfall to come back when we looked better, felt better or had fewer things to worry about. We simply stood there and let the miracle happen. We watched the water tumble over the old stones. We smelled the wet earth and felt the temperature drop. For that moment, we were not thinking about the rustico being sold, the work that needs to be done, where we will go next or how we will get there. We were just there.
Persons are always saving something. You save the good dishes for company, the special shirt for an important occasion and the bottle of something wonderful for a day worthy of opening it. You save your ideas until you feel more confident. You save your words until you believe someone is ready to hear them. You save your dreams until you have more money, more time or fewer reasons to be afraid.
But what if today is the occasion?
What if the person who deserves the good dishes is you? What if the shirt you love should be worn to the grocery store? What if the words in your heart need to be spoken before the opportunity passes? What if happiness is not something you are supposed to preserve for later, but something you are supposed to devour when it is placed in front of you?
A dog understands this naturally. When the sun finds the perfect spot on the floor, we lie in it. When someone we love walks through the door, we celebrate as though they have returned from a ten-year expedition. When food falls from the table, we do not form a committee to decide whether this is the right time to eat it. We act. We enjoy. We live.
We do not save our love either. We give it away every day because we know something persons often forget: love does not become smaller when you use it. Life does not become longer when you postpone it. And joy does not become more valuable because you keep it sealed inside a bottle.
Girl Person sometimes wishes she could return to certain moments and live them again. She would walk another trail with Brickle. She would sit beside Digby one more time. She would slow down and memorize the ordinary days she did not yet understand were extraordinary. But that is the strange thing about time. You usually do not know which moments will become the ones you would give anything to revisit.
That is why you cannot wait until life announces, “This is one of the important parts.” It rarely does.
The important part might be a dog standing in the rain. It might be a shared meal at a worn-out table. It might be the sound of someone you love laughing from another room. It might be an uncomfortable walk up a mountain or an evening when the power stays on and everyone is safe. It might be standing in a wet valley and listening to a waterfall come back to life. It might even be a pizza in Italy that you finish completely because saving one bite would make absolutely no sense.
I would not save time in a bottle because time was never meant to sit on a shelf. I would open that bottle immediately. I would pour it everywhere. I would splash in it, roll in it and probably knock it over with my tail. I would use every drop while the persons I love were close enough to share it with me.
The rain stopped eventually. Of course it did. The clouds moved on, the drops slowed and the mountain became quiet again. But the waterfall continued to flow. Its voice traveled through the valley, reminding us that something can look finished and still begin again. Something can be silent and still find its voice. Something can become dry and tired and still be restored.
Maybe that is the miracle we needed.
We could not save the moment, but we lived it—and perhaps that is the only way a moment can truly be kept.
So wear the shirt. Use the dishes. Say the words. Take the walk. Open the bottle. Stand in the rain. Go listen to the waterfall. Eat the pizza.
Do not wait for a better time to live your life. It’s time for today’s affirmation too. This will now be included in the daily blog.
Fruitycake’s Monday Affirmation
I Will Not Save My Life For Later
Say this out loud:
Today, I will notice the life that is happening in front of me. I will not save my happiness, my love or the things that bring me joy for some imaginary perfect day. I will use the good dishes, speak the words in my heart and appreciate the persons and animals beside me. This moment is worthy of being lived fully—and so am I.
Carry this affirmation with you today, persons. When you catch yourself waiting for a better time, remember the rain, the waterfall and the pizza. Life does not have to be perfect to be precious. Sometimes the moment you almost postponed becomes the one you wish you could keep forever.
This is Fruitycake. I have pizza to devour, miracles to witness and absolutely no time to save.
Fruitycake
A Very Important Note From Fruitycake
Today is grocery day, persons, and we urgently need your help. If you are able to help us fill the refrigerator, care for me and keep our daily blog, rescue outreach and mission going, even a small donation would make an immediate difference.
You can help with today’s groceries and necessities here:
Necessities: https://www.tinyurl.com/2tdnecessities
Venmo: travelingdogs2
Zelle: rachael@2travelingdogs.com
We also urgently need new Patreon members. For only $5 a month, you receive our daily blog, weekday audio blogs read by Girl Person and me, recipes, videos and more—while giving us the dependable support we need to continue this work and build the next chapter of our animal rescue project.
Join us on Patreon today:http://www.patreon.com/2travelingdogsrescue
Please do not save your kindness for another day if you are able to help today. Today is the day we need it. Thank you for keeping food in our kitchen, hope in our hearts and this mission flowing—just like our miracle waterfall.
