It wasn’t that I didn’t notice her. I did. Noticing and paying attention are two different things. I walked by her over and over and went over a breed that more familiar to me-chihuahuas. I had been around them more. I had observed and held them more. I knew more people who loved and lived with this breed than people who were graced by the presence of French bulldogs.
She made me notice her. Yes, It wasn’t my choice . She hopped onto the chair next to me that was not far from the dinning room table where seven people were sitting and enjoying conversation and food. I saw her out of the corner of my eye studying people, one by one.
Someone would speak and her head would turn and her intent gaze would move to that person. Then it would happen again and again. This little one sat still for many minutes observing.
Yes, I did wonder what what was going on in that brain of hers. More than that, I was in appreciation of her sitting and watching and wanting to be close to humans. After all, she could have chosen to sit on the floor or on a nearby sofa that could easily have been much more comfortable. She was choosing to connect. She knew what she needed. She knew what fed her spirit.
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