I just got back from taking my dog outside. He still wants to run even though one leg is bound to his body while his shoulder break heals. He pulled me halfway into the next yard and then looked at me too tired to make it back; so he layed down in the grass. I knelt next to him not able to lift his 65lbs without somehow putting pressure on the shoulder so we stayed put.
He was so happy to be there. He sniffed the grass then stretched his neck so the grass would rub against his face. I heard him take a deep breath in, which was followed by a loud cleansing sigh. He closed his eyes and I just sat there in my Garland pose squat. At first , my thoughts centered on wondering how long could I sit like that before my knees would not be able to re-straighten. But the dog's contentedness reeled my mind back in to the sweet pleasures of sitting in the grass and doing nothing but rubbing every part of him I could get to. It somehow reminded me of picnics in our playset when the kids were tiny.
Stretching out some more, Izzo then somehow managed to flip onto his back, three long legs reaching out through the air, his belly mine to rub next. He was just so happy there. He rolled over towards me when he felt ready, this time settling his heavy body on top of my feet. I stood (slowly!) feeling how rooted to the earth I was with his weight upon me. It was a reminder we all need a moment to feel grounded and centered. It was a reminder how the simplest things can make us, and even a dog, smile.
When we finally made it back across the yard about forty minutes later, he tried to settle into his bed but he couldn't get comfortable. The cushiony bed filling just could not be a replacement for the damp nurturing grass. And I understood.