The value of a proper lean...

This is one of the first photos that Myrtle took of me.  I was such a tiny puppy compared to now, eh?  But handsome, yes?  So fluffy and irresistible, as Myrtle puts it.  Of course, she still finds me fluffy and irresistible, so I am not sure that counts for much.  In any case, this is me, was me, is me.  [However you would put that...just read it correctly and we can move on.]  There I was, minding my own business, when my birth momma's owner plucked me out of a pile of puppies, tossed me in a car, drove me down the road for a long spell, and dumped me in Myrtle's arms. I didn't understand what he was doing then.  And it did take me a while to figure it out.  I learned, eventually, that that was the beginning of my life with Myrtle.

I didn't know then, as I do now, what a supportive role I would be playing in Myrtle's life.  This photo here is the first one, I think, of Myrtle and me.  Quite a pair we make, if I do say so myself!  At the beginning, we did lots of snuggling.  Okay, we still do a lot of snuggling.  But I was so tired all the time that I was either eating, snuggling, or napping.  [Yes, I was also still not quite sure where I was supposed to be doing my business...but to be fair, I had never seen a blade of grass before I got here, remember?]

Anyway, back then, what I knew best was draping.  My brothers and sisters and I draped ourselves over each other.  I draped myself over Myrtle and even the babies she gave me.  Draping was, to me, the best way to sleep, the best way to get comfortable.  I suppose you could say that was because, back then, I just didn't know what my job was as Myrtle's puppy.  My world was all about me.  My naps, my food, my new babies, my new puppy mom.  So, understandably, I sort of just focused on what made me comfortable, what worked best for me.

I have learned, lately, that there is something better than snuggling, better than draping.  I have learned the value of a proper lean.

Myrtle can thrash something fierce at night with the things that fill her dreams.  For the longest time, I slept draped across some of the pillows near her head and then moved to curl up at her side.  I have always slept near her, both during our naps and at night.  But I have discovered that if I lean against her, she stays asleep longer and thrashes less.

I am still just a bitty fellow, even if she tries to tell you otherwise. I might be five or six times larger than when she met me, but I am still a bitty fellow.  My goodness, by comparison, Myrtle is a blooming giant!  Yet it is possible for me to lean against her in such a way that she always feels my presence.

Maybe, just maybe, I got the idea from when I started wedging myself between Myrtle's knee and the arm of the couch.  She'd tell me there was not enough space, and yet I always managed to find some.  I wiggled and pressed and magically, I would fit.  Now, this leaning stuff, it is not so much about wiggling, but it is about pressing.  At night, after I have played with my babies and a ball or two, had a good chew on my bed bone, and thoroughly aggravated Myrtle while she is reading, I curl up with my back against her and lean.  Somehow--I don't know how--I lie down where my back is almost on top of hers, as we are back to back, and slide down so I am leaning against her even when I am sleeping.  Even when she is sleeping.

If Myrtle rolls over on her other side, I shift to the pillows and lean against her forehead.  Sometimes, that means my backside gets a bit wet from the tears that fall from her face, but I don't mind.  You would think that, at this point, she would be leaning on me, but I am really leaning on Myrtle.

Well, after reading this, I think I've done a rather poor job of explaining.  But I'm not going to waste more time on trying.  I lean.  That's all you need to know. 

The important thing, in all of this, is that a proper lean can be as good as a hug and even better than draping. You see, draping is about me, about comforting me.  From what I have seen with others around Myrtle, hugging can also be about me--if I were able to hug her. But leaning is about Myrtle, about comforting her.  I do still crawl up on her shoulders. I do still cover her face with kisses. I do still tuck my neck atop hers.  I do still slip my head in the crook of her elbow.  All of those things are important and all of those things Myrtle savors.  But I know...I know from how much calmer she is...I know that leaning against Myrtle comforts her more than anything else I have done.

Perhaps...maybe it helps Myrtle to be reminded, even while sleeping, that she is not alone.  

I can understand that.  You see, whenever Myrtle gets up to do her business or to fetch a drink or to bring more wood in for her fires, I follow her.  Every time.  Even if I am so tired from being awoken from a nap by her movement and find myself falling back asleep on the kitchen floor in the brief time it takes her to pour a Dr Pepper, I will follow.  I will follow her because I don't like to be alone.

So, my recommendation is--if you have someone important in your life--lean against him.  Sit or lie down next to her and just lean.  Don't hug him for you. Don't drape yourself over her for you.  Lean and, in so doing, remind the one you love that he is not alone and that you are there to comfort her.

This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off!