hearts

Everyone who was raised up on fairytales knows one or another of the stories where a giant or a magician keeps their heart somewhere secret outside of their bodies. It is a ruse for safety that sometimes works and sometimes leaves a dead shell.

This morning my cat hugged me. She was balanced on the sink, watching my morning rituals. When I paused to stroke her arching back she reached first one paw and then the other to me, coming to rest with her forelegs draped against my neck and across my collar bones. She looked up at me, inquiring and assessing. Then she began to rub her face against my jaw and purr. I had never been hugged by a cat before. I was utterly charmed!

I sit in the late autumn sun, cool rain washed breeze lifting my hair and ruffling my dog's fur. She moves closer to me, makes soft eye contact, and settles her chin against my knee with a sigh.

There are parts of my heart in these animals. The settle me and keep me steady. I am grateful for them and their gifts.