It’s 1:30 in the morning and Maverick has decided that there’s a monster outside.   This monster will only be defeated by loud and continuous barking.    Nothing will convince him otherwise.   

Giving in to the incessant barking, because my husband was about to go ballistic,  I took Maverick out to prove that there was nothing out there.   It’s a bit difficult to remain calm and steady when my brain is going, “well, he’s barking like the hounds of hell are at the doorstep, are you SURE there’s nothing out there?”   

I live in the woods.  It’s most likely deer – last night when I took Maverick out, I saw one in the clearing – seemingly standing guard.   It had been a craptastic day with Maverick, he was in high teenager mode – “I will do what I want and you can’t stop me!” – all day, including an hour long barkathon in the evening.   Seeing the buck standing there in all his majesty, just watching us, felt like a sign that everything is okay, that we’ll be okay, that this teenage nonsense won’t last and we’ll come through it better and stronger.   

It was a sign I badly needed.    My nerves were shot, anxieties and inadequacies were causing tears of self recrimination and the sure knowledge that I was incapable of raising this puppy.   It gave me renewed determination to face today with a different attitude, to rejoice in his nonsense instead of giving in to frustration.   

We had an awesome day.   We walked with little pulling, no yanking the arms out of their sockets, more than one cuddle time, and a renewed joy.  Joy is hard to find most days since Max went to the Bridge.   That aching grief has never lifted its grip from my heart.   Today Maverick made me smile, and laugh, and it was a good day.

That ended with the hounds of hell at my doorstep.   I believe we’ve been saved for the night.   I believe we’ll start tomorrow with the full intention of making it the best day we can, and try to find a way to keep the hounds of hell from waking the neighbors in the middle of the night.