My sister and I had gone shoe shopping with my dad. In those days, they had these little x-ray machines and you would put a shoe on and then put your foot on this machine that would x-ray your foot in the shoe. It would ensure a PERFECT FIT.
It does look a little like a medieval torture device, which is why, I guess, they would give small children a balloon after your shoe was fitted. It is amazing I don’t have cancer of the toe.
When we got home, I sat on the front porch with my dad and sister with my helium balloon and somehow it came untied from my finger. I watched it floating upward and asked my dad to get it back for me. He said, “Well, honey, I can’t reach that.” I was dumbfounded that he couldn’t get it. This was a cosmic turning point in my relationship with him, I mean I still loved him, but realized in that moment that he wasn’t invincible. To be honest, he came down a notch in my five-year-old world. And in a way, the world became a scarier place, a place where everything can’t be fixed.
Buddy hasn’t had that “aha” moment with me.
He thinks of me as the Invincible Dog Goddess.
If you have ever been the object of dog worship, you know what I am talking about.
In complete doggy bliss he will lie next to me on the couch, belly-up, front feet curled against his chest, hind feet pushing against my leg. He rests in complete assurance that his every need will be met, every problem will be fixed.
He doesn’t know that I too can’t reach a balloon in the sky. He thinks that the world is a wonderful place and that he is completely safe in my care.
I am going to try to keep it that way.
Balloon photo: http://creativity103.com yellow_Balloon_7415.jpg
Fluoroscope photo: Wikipedia Public Domain