Still in the midst of PT on my shoulder, I somehow have made my hip very angry with me. Probably slept on it wrong! Why is it as we get older that our bodies insist on complaining so much? This is most frustrating.
Pepper, my dog, has been fascinated with my PT exercises. Especially the ones that require lying face down on the floor. At first, she was convinced that this odd position meant playtime. I have since convinced her that I'm busy and she lies nearby and watches. Then there are the band stretches, followed by two different neck stretches (on both sides, please). My constant gazing in one direction, unable to interact with her leads to an amusing array of behavior: pitiful gazes into my eyes, pawing at my knees to get my attention, and just plain dejection when her antics don't result in any attention. While writing this, she has "nosed" her leash and is sitting in front of the door with her ears cocked and a hopeful expression on her face. She has, apparently, recuperated from the grandkids' visit and regained her energy. The night after they left, she slept like a rock--not even waking up when my husband made a 2 a.m. trip to the bathroom. She's not getting any younger either!
My husband and I are reading "Horses Never Lie About Love" by Jana Harris. In the midst of the storytelling we are learning some surprising things about horses. Today's revelation? While foals are 'in utero' the hooves are equipped with little slippers--a finger-shaped protoplasm attached to baby's feet to protect the mother! I've wondered about that (being kicked with hooves from the inside doesn't sound like much fun!).
Spring flowers, blues skies, slippers on foals... God is good as
life goes on.
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