Tales from a little wise, old dog

His name is Kvik (like quick). He is almost ten years old, he is sweet, clever, and a true best friend. He is family. Right now, he is taking his midday nap right next to me.

He tells many tales, especially with his tail that is in constant motion. He shows with his playful paws that he wants to go out, play, or a treat. And he smiles literally when we are cuddling on the couch on a pile of pillows.

He is always with me or my husband. He is only alone a few hours now and then when we go shopping outside our little town which has become a rare event.

He has been with us since he was only thirteen weeks old. He greats me in the morning, spend the day with me in my creative den, in my witch´s den, and outside in the garden, and he sleeps right next to me at night.

He has been through hell and back together with us all the way. He is our faithful little friend and has grown wise with the years than run so much faster for him than for us.

He knows my anxiety better than me. Yet he is always there, as if he knows that he is needed on the worst of days. I need him close to me when there is a bad attack on its way.

Today, I had some physical discomfort in the earliest signs of a coming attack, such as fast heart beat, nausea, and a creepy feeling of a cloak of anxiety stress surrounding me.

But he helped me control it by smiling so sweet back to me that I couldn´t resist having a longer good time with him. So it remained an early warning, and there is only a vague memory of it now.

I get my call tomorrow afternoon. This time I need it. My mood is swiftly changing back to the more creative me that I prefer to my opposite, the slower, the less secure, the depressed me.

But I can feel this time that I have changed inside during this pandemic era, and to follow change even further I need to carry my soul along, so that I can be just me in all this too.

By that I mean the real me, the one without the social masks, the person I prefer to be. The one behind the words on the keyboard. The one you know when you meet the person between the lines.

My little wise, old dog helps me to get to know that me. The strongest one, oh yes, I just beat yet another anxiety attack just now. The weakest one when I curl up and cry my heart out, he tries to remove the tears.

He is a happy little guy with his firm attitudes as a terrier and a sweet soul inside. His way of life teaches me to relax and to enjoy life as it comes. With its ups and downs, its challenging twists and turns, and its experiences of light, laughter, and love.

I´m used to twists and turns, and my path has never been easy or taken for granted. Today, I understand less, experience the more, however. I collect memories from the everyday that is my guideline in life.

Many of these involve Kvik. He is an integral part of this family, and a blog post in his honor is well-earned.

The little wise, old dog

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