Signs of a Glorious Day

First, you sleep in. As miracles occur, the dogs have no accidents while they wait for you to wake up. Instead, they sleep on the end of the bed.

When you wake up - at the awesome hour of 9 am, your Nooze is asleep next to you. You also find that she has covered you with her "Mine", a Princess blanket covered in fuzzy crowns and pink bracelets.

You stretch slowly, and the dogs barely stir. When you get out of bed, all three are off like a shot to the back door. They are ready to go out.

The sun is shining, with a light breeze in the background. It's not too hot, nor too cold. You make coffee and dress for an outing.

After roughly one hour in the car, you take a commuter bus to the NC State Vet school. Your Nooze spends the next 4 hours wandering around, looking at animals, watching surgery on a big screen tv as you try not to panic or throw up.

You meet up with a friend. Her children are along for the ride, and are fun, agreeable, and laid back. They ease into talking to Nooze, though she is clearly at least 3 years younger.

You and your friend watch as the children wander to the front gate. They stroll casually to the rescue dogs. You watch carefully as the three step up to each dog pen. You smile quietly as you notice - time after time - the oldest, saddest, most forlorn creatures are the center of their attention. The dogs loved. They are cooed to. They are called beautiful and smart, though in reality they are staggering and blind. They are beautiful to the children. As a result, they are also beautiful to you.

When the outing ends, the perfection of the time is topped. Your Nooze walks with you, hand in hand, to your car. Suddenly she stops, hugs your leg, and thanks you.

You smile and thank her. For the day, for the time out, for the vision of what she will become.