solitude

“I'm lonely,” I told my therapist sitting in one of the CPS offices in Lerner. “I just feel so lonely sometimes.” The moment took hold of me, and I was surprised that I was saying it out loud. I hadn't even acknowledged it myself until that moment: I, Sabina Jones, the talkative, social, loudmouth, was lonely, and I had been lonely for as long as I could remember. When I said it, I was surprised that this feeling that had melted into my everyday being had a name. I was lonely, but aren't most of us?

When I decided to get my own dog, a Shiba Inu I named Wicket, I thought I was prepared for Shiba care. I understood the breed to be the “cat version of a dog”: distrustful of strangers, aloof, sneaky, and averse to being cuddled. Shibas’ personalities aren’t typically suited to being sociable and outgoing. I thought I was getting a lone wolf, a dog that doesn’t need anyone.

Good morning, Columbia! Today's forecast promises a high of 52, so the end of this resurrected winter is in sight. (Let's put the "Frozen" jokes to rest, too. It's April, and I'd like to use the phrase "let it go" freely.)