Lessons from a Little Dog

I’m interrupting this month’s On the Farm instalment to bring you a story of a little dog with a brave little heart who goes by the name of Daisy. I don’t have much new to offer about what’s happening on the farm. Winter routine still rolls on, only now with the added urgency of spring’s quickening and goats imminently kidding. Rain is thick, mud is heavy. There is too much to do and not enough time to do it.

Sometimes, most times, when I sit down to write these posts I have no idea what I’m going to say. I light a candle. I ask for the words to flow through me to the hearts of those they speak to, for I am only a conduit for these words, these stories. I ask that they flow freely, uninhibited. And then I write, without any expectation of what will come. I try to write always from my heart, and not so much from my head. Too much head-thinking gets in the way of the flow of words, gets in the way of truth and meaning, of heartfulness. Writing well, from the heart, I think, requires vulnerability, a willingness to be open, to keep offering my heart out into the world, even when I don’t feel like I’ve got anything to offer, even when being open and vulnerable is terrifying and I just want to hide. I don’t think it’s possible to foster a true connection with my readers through these stories without being willing to be open and vulnerable, without being real, being true. Without offering my heart, and whatever words want to flow through it, and trusting that they find whoever they speak to. And it truly makes my heart swell to know that these stories connect with you.

We took in a little dog last week. We were asked by a neighbour if we could take her in. A sweet little dog. Supposed to be a sheepdog. She didn’t get along with her last human and wouldn’t work sheep, so she was going to be put to sleep. Or that’s the story we got. So, we took her in. Who wouldn’t? She’s not a sheepdog. She’s a sweet, timid little thing, just a little companion dog who only wants to love and be loved, like us all.