Holding Space

He did not want to go in. The air was full of changes. Colder and fresh with the hint of snow smell, not fallen yet, but filling the air with the anticipation of it. 

Libi was content. Happy to watch the squirrel scurrying up and down the trees. Occasionally swinging like a monkey from branch to branch. Libi liked when the squirrel did this. It reminded him of freedom. Of the weightless feel he got when he swam in the ocean or lake.

“Libi! Come, boy!”

Libi sighed. He did not want to go in. Not right now. Not while the world prepared for the snow. Not while the squirrel still played. He would go in in a moment, or two. Not now. No.

She stretched from the top of the porch as if she needed to get closer to him for him to obey. 


He glanced over his shoulder. Letting out a faint sigh that spoke volumes as to what he would do.

A few moments passed, he heard her foot falls walk away and the door open and close. He sat on his haunches and gazed at the sky. Waiting. 

The snow would be fallen soon. He could see the white haziness of it in the distance. His body shivered with anticipation.

The sound of the door opening had his ears lift. He waited for his name to be called. Heard instead the faint squeak of the steps as she decended. Appearing by his side moments later. He glanced up at her with the love of his soul shining out of his mismatched eyes. 

She smiled down at him and patted his head as he leaned his large frame on her. Sitting half down on her feet and half on the ground. Holding her lightly in his presence. They both gazed at the sky and the world beyond. She lifted her steaming cup to her mouth. Sipped and watched as the snow arrived.

Falling in thick clumps. Libi opened his mouth to taste the freshness. She laughed at him. His exuberance for the world. His insistence to remain rooted to this spot as the storm arrived. He was so beautiful and reverent. Her eyes teared with the gratitude of his presence, of his willingness to hold space for her, and his loyalty.

The world needed more Libi, or maybe it needed more people willing and able to see the beauty of his being. The willingness he had to sit quietly and wait.

Whatever it was, she was grateful to have him in her world, and he felt the same.

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Opportunities Are Knocking

I heard a tapping at the door. Grumbling to myself, I uncurled from my seat, set my book down, and went to the door.

You stood there. Disheveled and ragged. It was hard to tell if the rain caused your unappealing appearance, or if you naturally looked that way. Tufts of blonde stuck out in all directions.

Your eyes sought mine. Pleading for shelter. Pleading for warmth and comfort from the storm.

The covered porch was keeping you dry for now, but the wind howled in gusts causing those blond tufts to continuously rearrange in a new disheveled state.

Pleading, soulful, brown eyes looked at me.

I knew what would happen if I let you in. I knew you would steal my heart. Uproot my life. Even knowing this, I stepped aside.

You trotted past. Sniffing at the table where my keys lay in a bowl. Tail slightly wagging; you looked back at me. In your eyes was relief to be warm and pleading to be accepted.

I patted your head, and suggested you get dry and fed. You grinned. More at the prospect of eating, then the drying part, I know.

Dry, fed, and warm. You sat at my feet while I posted a picture of you on the lost and found. Praying you were not lost to someone, but found.