Tell Me Something Good

Out of nowhere?

Is goodness so hard to find?

It can be.

Giving up?

Give me a moment.

Done. Nothing good at hand?

Give me another moment.

Done. What does it say that you have no positive word within easy reach?

That it’s . . . never mind. OK. Last Wednesday the sun came out after weeks of cold and rain. Almost seventy degrees in the afternoon. We drove to a nearby brewery where picnic tables are scattered about the lawn and harmonious distancing is practiced. We sat in the sunlight with our droughts. A group of motorcyclists passed in the adjacent road. Loud, yes, but not a gang of threatening malice—a caravan of riders with the wind and sun in their faces. In the beer garden, a dog escaped its owner and ran to the street, up the sidewalk, and into a large grassy lot, where it chased dancing scents at a gallop. Fear and concern among all the people gathered. And then the rapturous dog, so happy to run free, but so close to danger, returned to its owner’s caress, and we all sighed and cheered in the sunshine with our golden drinks and the echoing song of the riders.

That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Oh stop it.

Are you smiling?

Dogs have saved my life yet again.

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