A Sense of Purpose

No-one ever had to tell me about it, it was instilled, perhaps it was in the water. Parents tried to change my direction many times but there was a sense of purpose.

Today my husband is at work elsewhere and our dog is staying with a local family. I’m on my own and have my packing list but need to pack. I’ve a 5:30 alarm.

For years I was used to being alone (with two cats and a dog) but now, I am not used to it anymore. 5:30 in the morning will come soon enough to pack and get on the road to see family, and my husband will be there in the evening, for the weekend.

Sadly he left very early on the 7th of November and will not return until December. I’ll get to see him twice in other locations but Zoe will not. Yes, she will over Thanksgiving but that’s another story and location.

I am retired from a profession I could do, but not with changing locations. The life we live gives us two days a week together, that gives our small family (us and Zoe) time to catch up.

There are three pages of Zoe instructions for our trip and her adventure. No questions or phone calls as yet. I know she’s OK. I didn’t cry when I dropped her off and that’s a good sign. She just said “hey Mom, gotta go, things to do, people and dogs to meet.” Bye, my little one. Be good.

My purpose can include volunteerism, not for lack of trying. The major society governing therapy dogs will not allow Zoe into a hospital because she eats frozen raw food. She’s almost 13 years old and I will not change her diet for a hospice therapy dog program when it is the only food she would eat after trying everything when she was a pup who needed her hips removed and had to grow her own from cartilage.

Now this is my life, keeping it for the benefit of my husband and our dog and, of course, our families. Thanks to my Dad for telling me I could be anything I wanted to be. I’m now an old, retired wife and dog-mom. Dee


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