A small observation, courtesy of Tikka Rose, the Official Mascot of Lace on Race:

I settling in to a session on duty with you all, and Tikka joined me on the couch.

My find was focused on doing some engagement with the threads, and I could tell by her face, which was and is so cute and hopeful, still cute despite the silver muzzle that comes from turning 10 last month, that she just knew this was going to be some serious cuddling time, with just she and I abiding, looking out at the southern facing window as the light changed to late afternoon.

I had other ideas; focused as I was on work, but I couldn’t help turning my eye toward Tikka, who was looking at me straight on waiting for my attention, which I had unilaterally decided would have to wait. Just an hour, then we could go outside and frolic and there would be kibble and water and tennis balls, which seemed to me to be a perfectly reasonable compromise.

Not so reasonable to Tikka. There is nothing more heartrending than a black Lab/Pointer mix looking at you with slightly sad eyes, wanting nothing more than connection with you, as you practically ignore her and keep your attention on that blasted black box that swallows Mom up for hours at a time.

Out of guilt, I reached for the ubiquitous bag of chicken treats, and decided that two or three of them would keep her occupied for awhile.

This always works. Tikka adores chicken treats. I can usually redirect her with them; they, like apple slices for toddlers, and they can keep her out of my hair for awhile. Not today though.

I put them down by her, and she looked at them, looked at me, turned away, and back at me. The chicken treats stayed untouched. And I got it. I got it.

I really got it.

This is the lesson our mascot/muse taught me this afternoon: that nourishment is nothing, nothing without connection. Lately, I have been using the chicken treat ploy to elide communing with my roommate and very best friend. I throw out those treats with abandon, sometimes not even looking at her, sometimes even throwing them out to the porch so as to concentrate; so I can get ‘real’ work done, and often forget my promise to her of following her outside to throw balls and sticks and bones.

(I had to stop this essay because just a few moments ago, Tikka literally put her face by mine as I was typing and nudged my head. Which led to a few minutes of Tikka led abiding. Priorities.)

What I was forgetting was, that in the community of two that comprises me and Tikka Rose, the whole point was cleaving, and abiding, and succoring, and, yes, communing. That she often (not always, but often) prefers my company to the gophers, and feral cats, and field mice on the property is a great gift; one that I take for granted on the daily. Even now, in the Coronavirus crisis, when I have been at home and we have been each other’s constant companions, I am surprised she hasn’t tired of me. That her favorite place to be is with me, gophers be damned.

So. The chicken treats lay undisturbed. She kept looking at me. So when the light bulb finally went off in my head. I did something seemingly small; I put my hand on her left front paw and squeezed. The old girl panted a bit, dipped her head and licked my hand. She looked at me again, connection and attachment needs satisfied, and, only then, tucked into the chicken treats which then bought me a few minutes to talk with you.

What does all of this have to do with here?

Everything, really.

Tikka, my muse and mentor, just this very moment, taught me something big. That it matters little how much I give you informationally, no matter how many Organic Open Nature Chicken Jerky strips I throw at you, they mean nothing until I can truly meet you. That what I want you to know means nothing absent modeling and relentlessly and reliably living out the ethos and spirit of what I might write or say to you all. If I am throwing chicken strips at you but am not truly with you, no matter how good and wholesome and valid they are, the chicken treats will mean less than nothing.

It is only in abiding with you, only with connection plus nourishment, that this community will thrive.

And so it is with all of you towards each other. And all of you towards me. It matters less what we know than who we are. Holding each other’s paw is what gives us the strength, security, attachment, and connection to be able to take and internalize the nourishment, and only then go outside and chase gophers and tennis balls.

Which I will do right now. Near the orange tree near where Tikka and I watch the sun set these days.

We will abide and cleave.

So it must be for us.