I crest the hill on my morning walk. Sable, the neighbor’s goldendoodle, is waiting for me.
She dances a slow, proud circle. Universal retriever language for: I have a toy to show off!
She is “soft mouthing” it, carrying it gently like a prize game bird.
(In the absence of hunting, those instincts still kick in.)
“Oh, wow! What have you got there?” I coo.
Her owner’s grubby baseball cap!
He rounds the corner of his house, smiling and shaking his head.
Rapt in adoration of Sable’s sweetness, we laugh.
–
I think of the phrase money can’t buy happiness.
I agree in the sense that:
Happiness doesn’t proportionally increase with the monetary value of something.
(After all, without money, we would not be on this cozy suburban street.
Well-fed with our pets. The neighbor would be hatless!)
Happiness is not the item.
Happiness is the spirit of genuine, illimitable joy in which the gift is given and received.
Even the remembrance of that simple joy will hold value forever.
Sable confirms, with the wise wag of the retriever:
Happiness is free.
