"Under the Porch"

A quiet space. A private place. Soothing shadows and solitary silence. They’ll never think to look for me here, once they realize I’m not there.

I love them. I do. I am there for them, always. When they need a cuddle. A companion. A neutral ear. An excuse to play. They think my life is empty without them ... and it would be, if not for these stolen moments under the porch.

I can hear my heartbeat.

I can smooth my fur.

I can rest undisturbed.

I can be.

My name is called above the floorboards. My corner of the sofa is empty. I am not in anyone’s room. I am not in the yard. I am nowhere they can see. When rising panic trills in someone’s voice, I will emerge to a flurry of attention aimed at soothing themselves rather than welcoming me.

I love them. I do.

My life would be empty, but it would be mine. 

Being an introvert, even one with extrovert tendencies, can be difficult in our demanding world. At the end of a particularly exhausting day, I will “go under the porch” to recharge my batteries undisturbed. I am a people person, thus a people pleaser, so while this piece was written from a pet’s point of view, it easily applies to the way I sometimes feel about being “Dr. Ruth”.

Today is my most precious day off—one with no plans except to write write write. Reijo’s romance is once again moving along smoothly, so I’m treating myself to a pot of peach momotaro as I follow my hero's path to wedded bliss. He’s a lovely boy, exactly the sort of character to work with on a sublimely sunny day. Gratitude abounds.

With love,