Home Is....

Where the dogs are. So, I was just as at home recently in the Big Apple as I am now that I'm back home in the Midwest.

I'm thrilled to report Pete is thriving in his new home. He lives exactly the kind of life we want for our foster dogs. There is no resemblance to the dog my kids called "skeletor". But he is every bit the Pete he used to be and more.

I was thrilled by the sights and sounds of the big city. It was all I heard it was, and more than I could have imagined. Mostly I am humbled by the journey to led me there. I don't think I've ever walked so far, so fast, for so long. Now I know how a Flat Stanley feels when being photographed on one of his journeys. Except, I'd be a not-so-flat-Nancy.

I am amazed at the doors that opened for me. Elevator doors, subway doors, cathedral doors, taxi doors, museum doors, dog run doors, restaurant doors, apartment doors. All of these doors opened in delight, thanksgiving, and wonder simply because I said yes to dogs in my life about ten years ago and in particular to a foster named Pete last January.

I went there to attend a blessing of the animals. And found myself receiving more graces than I could ever give. Saying thank you to Pete's parents is not be enough. It's one of the life experiences where the best you can do is pay it forward whenever the opportunity presents itself.

That is what we do when we open our hearts to the moment. My moments are full of dogs. I may walk the dogs, but in truth, they have walked me clear to NYC and back. And it was awesome.