A Partially Eaten Bar of Soap and Other Curiosities

I feel the best time to discover that mice have been storing away poison pellets within one’s Wet/Dry Vac exhaust vent is upon hitting the ON switch, inside the house, seconds after dragging it hastily from the garage in an attempt to slurp up sudsy dog vomit from the living room floor; a deposit made by a white boxer dog who, earlier in the day, decided to eat a third of a bar - of Dial soap.

Once the partially eaten bar of soap had been confiscated, we all knew it was just a matter of time. As only a mother can, I watched the guilty dog out of the corner of my eye - waiting. Not feeling well, this gentle beast curled under my desk while I worked. At one point I glanced down to find her looking up at me with two soap bubbles clinging to her right jowl. 

I don’t know why this dog has a weakness for soap and lotion; but she does. If given a chance she will lick the shower floor clean after I step out and remove all the newly applied lotion from my legs. 

However, her unusual appearance and propensities are as cherished as her guileless heart. Often my daughter will comment, “Yeah, she’s weird. But she’s ours.” And here is where she belongs. It seems those closest to me are all a little left of center. I wouldn’t have it any other way. There is nothing exciting about fitting in with the masses. I appreciate uniqueness and those that aren’t afraid to be different. I better - I’m one of them.

Would I prefer writing like so many others and thus, be easily accepted - not necessarily. I have my own singular voice and I rather like it that way. With that said, writing is my career and I wouldn’t mind the money that easy acceptance brings. But I’m not about to modify myself to achieve financial security. I don’t believe I would succeed at being anything other than who I am; the way in which I write, the stories I tell, how I look and how I behave - all are a little different. I have a plaque in my kitchen that reads, "Well behaved women rarely make history." My interpretation of that simple sentence is: to make a difference, one has to be bold enough to be different.

And so yes, my dog likes to eat soap - she has her own unique tastes from which I will always try to protect her. But there is nothing wrong with being a little left of center. I don’t want to be crammed in with the many that stand in the middle; my view of what’s ahead shaped and shadowed by those standing in front of me. No - I’d rather stand off to the side, with a few spectacularly unique individuals, all of us with a clear view of our future and with room to dance.

Sane