The Many Sploots of Murphy McGee

The world is kicking my ass this month. I know there is a lot of that going around, and I’m feeling powerless to help anyone or improve life in general. So… Here are some cute pictures of a puppy.

I learned the word “sploot” recently from some fellow dog lovers. It’s a stretch that some dogs do that looks like a spread eagle splat on the floor. I’d never seen it before we got Murphy but apparently it’s really common with corgis.

It’s so delightful that I find myself taking the same photo of my dog over and over again. Now that we have learned the term, we have started to categorize the types of sploots Murphy tends to land in. Here are a few of my favorites.

The Full Sploot, aka “The Cinnamon Bear Rug”
The Sphinx Sploot
Side Sploot
Posh Sploot
The Look Back
And my favorite, The Burrowing Sploot

Hope you are all hanging in and that you enjoyed this diversion from the clusterfuck that is 2020!

Ouchie

A little over two years ago, I told Ethan (not long after my Yorkie had a minor surgery), “Be careful with Wensley, please. He has an ouchie and it really hurts him.”

“I know that,” Ethan said. “That’s why it is called an ‘ouchie’.”

Note to self: don’t explain child language to a child.

It just popped into my mind today and that seems fitting. We have a new puppy and he’s a delight and I’m so grateful that he has provided a counter balance to the loneliness Ethan is feeling as an only child sheltering in place. But I still miss my dog. I miss him every day.  It’s an ouchie. And as the name alludes, it hurts. It hurts, real bad.

The thing is: I feel him. I feel that he is near me, sometimes. Especially in the night hours, I feel him at the foot of my bed. Sometimes I feel a motion that could be him and I write it off as Matt, shifting his feet around. But sometimes I feel it even after Matt is up, or when he has gone to sleep on the couch on a restless night. And I have thought, “Wensley is here; he is near me, now…”

Last weekend I googled, “can you learn to see ghosts?” I’ve met women who claim to see them and who have seemed sincere. I am a bit of a skeptic, but sometimes I wonder… maybe? What if energy decides to linger before it converts? I don’t know. I haven’t really wanted it to fall on one side or the other. Until now.

As you have probably already guessed, my google search wasn’t particularly helpful. Which is to say, it didn’t tell me how to check in with Wensley and ask if he is okay. If he blames me for deciding it was his time to go. I felt so silly for googling it, I did something I never do, which was delete my cache. (Not that it matters; I guess the deep state Knows, now.)

I felt it again last night. Something like the slight disturbance Wensley would make when he would do a deep stretch on the foot of the bed, late at night, and then fall immediately bad to sleep. It made my heart warm just a little to think he’s still here watching after me. However irrational that seems.

But then, a few hours ago, it hit me. It isn’t a presence I’m feeling. It is something more akin to phantom limb syndrome. Clearly my brain isn’t ready to let him go.

Am I saying I have decided there are no spirits? No. I don’t know what is out there. I’m just feeling the loss of my companion again today. And it hurts. It hurts, real bad.