Big Black Truck and Little White Dog

On Saturday, I lay in my hammock Fretting about the uncertainties of students returning to school. I knew I shouldn’t be worrying. Because worrying would do no good for anyone. Yet still I lay there worrying because worrying gave me some sort of control. Then I saw the cutest sight: A big black truck trailed by a little white dog. My dad was driving to the dump pile At the back of the yard, Making stops along the way to pick up pinecones and yardwork tools. Where the truck went, Bullet faithfully followed. Bullet does this around the house, too— Follows my dad wherever he goes. But I’d never seen him follow the truck. And the contrast between big and small, Black and white, working just fine and struggling with his back left hip, Was just so very poignant that for a few moments I stopped worrying. For a few moments, I lay in my hammock celebrating joy—and unconditional love. For a few moments, Everything in the world was right.