I’ve always been an animal lover. I think it’s genetic. When I was about 11 years old, my mother found a wounded baby hawk in our back yard. She brought it in the garage, mended it’s wing, dug up worms and fed the thing for two weeks. That hawk stuck around for 4 years, even following us when we moved. It was unnerving to our cats to have a hawk sitting on the porch while they ate their breakfast. They eventually got over it, but I can only imagine…
We still call her Cinderella.
I digress. I’ve always loved animals and always had them in my home. While it does not help my allergies, there is an overwhelming amount of love a furry companion provides. I mean, look at this face. At nine months old, Titan (or TyTy) is a whopping 160 lbs of English Mastiff. He’s the most loyal dog I’ve ever had. He’s never more than a foot or so away. His projected size is about 265 lbs.
This is the happiest creature on the face of the planet. And despite the horrible farts that empty a room faster than tear gas, the long strings of drool that hang from his mouth and the fact that he self-pleasures way too much, this big oaf is a welcome member of my family. He’s my friend, my protector and my companion.
Oh but the love doesn’t stop there. Before Titan came along, we had our American Bulldog, who we cleverly named Tara Bull Dog. She’s a huge couch potato. There’s a bit of jealousy between our 6 year old Bulldog and the new Mastiff.
As writers, we need tend to withdraw into our writing holes. We become introverted as we toil over prose, plot, character development, blah blah blah. I’ve been taking steps to become a healthier person inside and out. Exercise, diet, staying in contact with WANAFit (a recent addition) and force-feeding myself water.
But we need to remember to feed our souls too. We need interaction. We need love. Feed your soul.