She sees everything, hears everything, and feels everything. I can’t hide anything from her. She feels what I feel. I often wish she didn’t. I don’t always want her to feel what I feel, but I can’t hide from her.
Her sensitive nature is part of what makes her so incredibly adorable and lovable. Its part of what brings joy to children and any person whose heart has a place where tenderness can be felt.
She doesn’t ignore the moment. She pays close attention. She’s intensely affected by her environment.
I wouldn’t change a thing about her. I love her just the way she is and I love the way she is.
I’ve tried to change in me the same traits I love so much about her. Maybe, if I pay attention, she will teach me that being sensitive and showing feelings is an okay way to be. In her, it’s a beautiful way to be. She’s honest and refreshingly expressive. Maybe, if I listen, she will teach me to embrace what is so.
Today she came to me when I called for her. I’ve known her and loved her almost five years and she finally walked straight to me without turning around half way to rethink things.
She walked towards me with more confidence and without fear. I saw a trust in her eyes that felt new. I can’t believe she is still learning to trust, but she is.
Her trust is a gift. I felt it when she gave it.
She doesn’t owe trust to any person. I don’t know what happened to my girl in her seven months of living before I met her. I don’t want to know.
I understand her cautiousness, even though I don’t know the details of her early life. I understand her and she understands me. Neither of us knows what happened to each other before we met. We just know things happened.
She and I are a lot alike.
She took me outside twice today. She took me where the early morning sun warmed my face. A cool crisp air reminded me of the changing season.
She has a lot to teach me, if I listen.
She’s my little drop of heaven who walks on four legs.