(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective … or is that the larger perspective in the smaller moments? You write, too.)
If today were school, there would be none (it’s February winter break). I’m just back from walking Dog Number 1, our elderly dog, and the covering of black ice and downpour of steady rain on top of the ice made for a most difficult stroll to the corner of the street and back again. He has a bad leg, and icy conditions are tricky for him to walk in. I just wanted to go slow, too.
So we inched our way down the street, the dog and I, as he tried to find his footing enough to take care of the morning business. I kept encouraging him, go slow go slow go slow. Mostly, he did, at a slower pace than usual, but at the end, as we made our way up our ice-covered driveway and found ourselves at the wooden steps, his paws could not find the usual friction and he started to slip, so I had to lug the old Lab up the three steps.
He looked up at me, grateful, I think.
Now, as I write this to the sound of the rain intensifying outside, I am wondering when Dog Number 2, the puppy, will barrel downstairs from the boys’ bedrooms, and what kind of adventure THAT will be as her energy meets ice, with me hanging on.
Go slow go slow go slow.
Peace (in slippery conditions),