I was trudging through the grey air, dodging melting icy piles of wet snow along the edge of the roads today when out of the corner of my eye I saw a little streak of brown fur bolt out of the field to my left, across the sidewalk and, without a single second of hesitation, book it like a badass beeatch across Glover Road in Fort Langley. This girl was fierce. She neverminded the traffic of cars and delivery trucks. She had neither caution nor tactic, but encompassed absolute adrenalin-fueled insanity as she laid her life on the line with each teensie footstep.
I like her. A lot.
She made it across the road but just barely, as the rear right wheel of a Chevy Cavalier nearly squashed her... I stopped, clasped my hand over my mouth and gasped... but then cheered wildly when I saw her come out the other side intact and as fluffy as ever.
I can feel my own fur ruffle and stand on end every once in a while when the familiar feeling of adrenalin rushes through my body. Many times I've stood in that field with my eyes fixated on the other side, barely noticing the trucks zooming by. I'm on my tippy toes, leaning toward the road, eyes wild with anticipation, feet aching to taste the danger. And then... I charge. Hair streaming behind me, mouth agape and arms flailing like branches in a windstorm, I beeline it for my goal without any sort of sensibility.
Sometimes I make it, most times I don't.
I've settled into myself much more comfortably and healthfully in the last few years. I've been told that I am much more stable and calm now than I used to be, and way less impulsive. I sleep much better at night and my heart races much less when I'm awake. I believe it comes with life experience which births wisdom, and I am pleased with my growth.
But every once in a while, I wonder what it would be like to see something I want and without thinking much at all, go for it: all in, balls out. Or are they nuts?
