When Bela came home, I took her in - her behaviors and quirks and thought, 'Alright. This is what we're working with.' She does (A) if (B), and always (C) and (D)...and becomes quite unhappy in the absence of (E).
I didn't consider that she could be ever-changing, like a person.
I have never thought of myself as very pliable, nor enjoyed the idea much. If I am in a constant state of change, how can I get to 'know thyself'? How can I predict my behaviors? But watching Bela change in front of my eyes has given me a new appreciation for the evolution of a soul.
Her changes have been both grandiose and minute. Some I've barely even noticed, they were so gradual. Some have made me step back, aghast.
She is a "people--not-a-dog--dog", I say. But every now and then (and more often now than then), she finds a friend on the sidewalk and becomes just plain giddy. She peed only in squat position for the longest time -- now she throws up one back leg and sprays buildings. She recently began snoring. She 'got over' rawhides.
Her changes are not inconvenient, nor annoying, they are just what they are. They are her, on her path, at least for the present.
In appreciating her change, I think about my own. Most notably, possibly, my feelings about onions. I have hated onions my whole life. Raw, cooked, dried, fried...even just hanging around...hated them. Now I layer white with red, raw with cooked; I fill up my nose and sting my eyes.
There are other things. I finally understand flowers. I enjoy a cup of tea, sans sugar. I make to-do lists to manage every step of a day.
Is this changing or aging? Well, are they any different? For in the process of life, which runs parallel to the process of aging, we change. We change the things that change us. We react. We adapt. We thrive.
Hooray for to-do lists! No matter how much I change, I don't think I'll ever stop using them.
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