It’s been a different, if not strange year, hasn’t it? I’ve woofed before about Steve and I not visiting the buildings and people we used to with regularity. (Like that word?) We still make it to the beach most mornings and enjoy our afternoons in the park across from my home (er, Steve and Hoppi’s home). But, still, we all had to learn a new rhythm.
I am grateful that some things in our home remained the same. Like my fluff pillows, biscuits, and toys. I sleep with some of my stuffed friends. Others I chew on or run with them from room to room. And one is a rope with a knot tied at each end. No squeak. No talk. Just rope. Simple. Steve is a fan—a big fan—of keeping things as simple as possible. (BTW: I woofed about this in Story 37 of my book.)
At times, Steve will pick up the rope and attempt to get me to pull on it with him. Kind of like a tug of war. I’m not much of a fan, but, occasionally, I indulge Steve. It makes him happy.
When I do tug back, I place my front legs straight out, raise my haunches up and pull with little backward sliding movements. This is where the knots come in handy. As Steve pulls, the rope will slip bit by bit from my jaws. But when I reach that knot, I get a better grip and dig in with all my might. I feel more in control. I feel strong!
All because of a knot at the end of my rope.
This helps me gather myself and then keep moving toward my goal of wresting the rope from Steve.
The knot at the end of my rope.
Everyone could use one.
Especially after this year.
Have you ever felt like something or someone was slipping away from you? You want to hold on, but you feel like you just cannot hang on any longer. You needed help.
What or who helps (or has helped) you tie a knot at the end of your rope to keep you hanging on when the going gets tough? How have you helped someone by being a knot at the end of her or his rope?
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Thank you for sharing my blog with your friends.
In my new book, Roxie Looks for Purpose Beyond the Biscuit, I share stories and lessons about friends, family, and fun. And I speak about purpose as well. (Steve says for dogs we might just want to call it “furpose.” He makes words up, I think.) Perhaps the book holds a biscuit or two for you!
WOOF!
Roxie Moves Beyond the Biscuit 
Roxie, I like that description of helping someone at the end of her rope. I had to do just that 11 years
ago when my Brother died at 63 from a heart attack and his daughter & her 2 children were alone up in Nashville. My Brother had always made sure to drive up there every month to help out. I knew then I had to start visiting more to take his place to help out and know they had family support.
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Sounds like you were a strong knot. A good person! Sorry about your loss–and glad your family has you.
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