Greg and Juno take a little bath

Ugh.  It’s been a crazy couple of weeks and I find myself constantly looking inward to remind my spirit that “everything happens for a reason.”  My dearly departed mom used to say that every time something terrible or unexpected happened to me growing up.  “Just remember, honey, everything happens for a reason.”  I would, of course, get annoyed or more sad and think to myself, “Yes, but why does it have to happen to me?”  Strangely enough, the day she died, I found myself telling people that “everything happens for a reason,”  and it makes me smile inwardly each time I think it or say it to someone else. Thanks mom, for bombarding us with such annoyingly true euphemisms while we were growing up. Another of her favorites was, “What doesn’t kill you makes you smarter.” That must have been her variation of, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

About five weeks ago, Juno fell through the ice on the river (after I made a huge point of asking Greg to keep him away from the edge because the ice was thinning out) and he disappeared for a few seconds under an ice ledge.  With my heart in my mouth, I watched my husband plunge into the river, up to his waist, without hesitation and reach under to fish the dog out and save him, hauling him up to the surface by his collar and throwing him over the ice onto the beach, like Superman.  Both sat there for a good five minutes catching their breath and just sort of letting it all sink in while I sat down and waited for my heart to stop hammering in my ears and get hold of my temper (which flared up the moment I knew they would both be safe).  As I walked a good length of the beach to where they were sitting, Greg looked up at me with this crazy expression on his face and, teeth chattering, said, “Woe.  I think I have hypothermia.”  I just looked at him, in his wet jeans with crazy eyes and I shrugged and said, “Just remember, honey, what doesn’t kill you makes you smarter.”  Oh, mom, you would have relished that moment as much as I did.

Needless to say, Greg didn’t let Juno go near the edge of the river until the rest of the ice had melted.  Imagine that.

No post is complete without a pic, so here’s one of Juno a couple of years ago.  I was pulling stuffing out of the couch pillows because they were too hard and, when I looked back, Juno was having a grand old time tearing it into little pieces as I pulled it out.

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