the literal sensation of spring
For those of you residing in more temperate climates, the arrival of spring may have been just another passing notation on the calendar. March 20, 2023: congratulations, you’ve crossed the threshold into the next season! For us, spring sauntered in this very week, only three days past. Suddenly, the sky was blue, delicate buds sprouted on branches, the steady hammering of our local woodpeckers sounded throughout the area, and every terrestrial thing not sheltered beneath rooftops or leafy canopies was awash in blinding bright light. This wooded valley warmed to early summer highs, and children’s gleeful shrieks and laughter carried from yard to yard, ear to ear on a gentle breeze. Squirrels scurried with a renewed zest for merrymaking and mischief, and the neighbor’s three dogs—who frequently mistake our side yard for a public lavatory—cavorted with wild abandon, not to mention some particularly raucous barking.
All of these signs would have clearly pointed to the start of this season of rebirth, but Dennie and I didn’t need any of them to tell us that spring had finally made its belated entrance. No. Here at the Fitzgerald home, we have a built-in Sunshine Detector.
Maisie is a sweet and highly intelligent girl who also happens to suffer from seasonal affective disorder. Similar to the condition’s effect on humans, darker days and adverse weather conditions cause her to become lethargic with an ongoing tinge of Beagle Blues. If, by some fluke, it’s not wet outside, or if there’s snow on the ground (which sends her into Crazy Hyper Puppy Mode), she’ll emerge from her rainy-day trance and play. Indoors, we lavish her with affection and tempt her into games with her plush toys whenever possible to try to keep the wintertime doldrums at bay. Every year, the pattern continues. The only lasting cure, the only hope for bringing back a steady stream of shepherd smiles is the return of the long-absent, soul-warming radiance from above.
For these last few days, sunshine has walked among us.
Throughout the cold and rainy months, Maisie sprawled on the furniture behind me, frequently snoozing away the hours as I worked. Earlier this week, after breakfast, she dutifully leapt up to her usual place, dozing off only occasionally. The rest of the time she remained bright-eyed and alert. She listened to me as I read new scenes from the sequel to my upcoming young-adult novel, she cocked her head curiously at the chirps of baby birds outside, and, patiently, she waited. At the start of every break, rather than staying put as she had done most of the winter, she grinned at me, pounced to the floor, and eagerly followed to the living room. The walls and windows glowed in the sunlight. So did our dog. She ran from window to window, soaking it in as her mouth parted into a wide smile. Once my workday was done, Maisie could hardly wait to step outside. Still, we resisted the urge. It was after quitting time for Dennie too, but she was delayed, dealing with a complicated client call. With every minute that passed, Maisie’s excitement grew. It was a brilliant afternoon, and, after seven months of gloomy skies, soon she’d be free to unleash her solar-powered inner puppy. Again, she darted from window to window, on this occasion following the movements of the dogs next door. Then we heard it—the closing of Dennie’s laptop, the rolling of her chair across a hardwood floor. I asked that most coveted of questions:
Maisie, do you want to go out and play?
There it was, what we’d been missing the winter through—the supernova of smiles, our dog so exhilarated her tongue cascaded out the side of her mouth, tucked comically over one tooth like a wet, pink combover. She danced and pranced around the room, then raced out the door and across the lawn with an expression conveying nothing short of rapture. When she eventually settled into the grass, she never stopped smiling. She studied every scent, every sound, perfectly content to do nothing more than bask in the sun’s rays.
No. Dennie and I didn’t require any other signs of spring. Before we’d ever glanced outside, we knew the sun had returned to these Northwestern woods. It was that kind of pure, blissful feeling that comes from an unwavering expression of genuine happiness, from the hopefulness of bright peepers, and, ultimately, from the touch of toasty fur. It was that unrivaled, deep-down impression--the warmest of warm fuzzies, in both the literal and figurative sense.
~
Wherever you are, whatever the weather, may you always find bliss in the simplest pleasures: a beautiful day, a wagging tail, a book that touches your heart and tickles your funny bone. Learn more about Maisie Moon, genius shepherd-beagle girl in Moonlight of the Talking Dog, hitting virtual bookshelves May 20, 2023. (Now available for pre-order.)
calling all shutterbugs
Have a photo of your adorable animal companion(s) reveling in springtime? I’d love for you to share. Send them to me here, and tell me a little bit about them.
