When I was five years old, way back in 1953, my parents purchased a home after renting for the first eight years of marriage, and we moved to 4022 North 18th in Tacoma, Washington. As a way of lessening the trauma of a major move, my parents bought me a new puppy.
She was a Toy/Rat Terrier, all-black with a white chest, and I named her Pixie.
Pixie was a small dog, full of energy, and I was thrilled to have her. The plan was for Pixie to stay in our backyard, a yard surrounded by four-foot high fencing. It was a decent-sized yard, certainly with enough room for a small dog to frolic in.
But Pixie had a different idea.
One day I went out to feed Pixie and she wasn’t in the backyard. I must have spent a good five minutes confirming the obvious, that my small dog had somehow escaped, and then I yelled for my mother, tears in my eyes, and she and I went around to the front yard and there was Pixie, contentedly chewing on a stick of wood under the willow tree, apparently without a care in the world.
Mom scooped up the dog, took her around to the back, and locked the gate. She and I both went inside and watched Pixie. It didn’t take long for the mystery to be solved.
Our backyard and the neighbor’s backyard were separated by a stone wall, and our fence butted up against that stone wall. Pixie took a run at that corner, leapt up on that stone wall, pushed off it at an angle, and vaulted off the top of our fence to the other side.
It was pretty impressive for a miniature dog.
From that day on, we just left the gate open, and Pixie had free run of the front and backyards.
QUOTE OF THE DAY
“Do just once what others say you can’t do, and you will never pay attention to their limitations again.” James Cook
THOUGHT OF THE DAY
There are certain things I simply cannot do in my sixty-eighth year. I can no longer throw a fastball ninety-miles-per-hour like I did as a teen. I can no longer run like the wind nor can I climb mountains with reckless abandon.
But I can still write, and I can find time to write, and I can definitely find time to practice my craft and become a better writer. I have no excuses with regards to writing.
How about you?
HAVE A GREAT DAY…
Unless, of course, you’ve made other plans.
Bill
“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”
Billybuc
Artistry With Words 