It’s been 4 months since Midge let me at her keyboard, but today I got my chance.

Although my summer went well (despite high heat on my heavy black fur), recent days have been more puzzling. It all began last week when I was forced to spend long hours in our new backyard pen. Until this summer I’d never been put behind a locked gate and wondered what I’d done to deserve such abandonment.

It occurred to me that Midge might have put me there by mistake. She can be ditzy, and it’s possible she just forgot where to look for me. But when I realized no one was coming on that first day, I became proactive. Since I’ve learned that repeated nudging sometimes opens closed doors, I tried it on the gate.

As I gently bumped my head against it again and again, suddenly it swung open, and I was free to go! Those days in the pen ended up being the best I’ve had in a long time! I don’t know where Midge or the rest of them were, but for unending hours I got to roam the streets, the neighborhood, and the beach as if leash laws didn’t exist. I began hoping Midge would put me in the pen every day.

But then something strange happened. Last Sunday everybody came home again and Birgitta walked in with a mysterious bundle that made strange sounds and had a bizarre smell. She unwrapped it, knelt down in front of me, and asked me to come and see it. She let me sniff it all over, but I really couldn’t categorize its smell.

Right then both Birgitta and Midge began talking to this new bundle in the lilting, high-toned voices usually directed at me. I leaned in close to receive their happy talk, but this time Midge pushed me gently and said, “No, Jack. That’s enough.” Since then I’ve heard lots of happy talk, but it’s all been a bust for me.

Finally today, Midge saw my sad tail and comforted me. “Jackie-Boy, don’t worry. We still love you, too.”

I hope so, because an old guy like me doesn’t make new adjustments easily. Actually, a week ago today was my 70^th birthday. I spent it in the pen. But you know something? Despite most of the attention going toward Birgitta and the never-ending bellyache she was having on that day, Midge did give me a handful of birthday bones as she put me in the pen. Not 1, not 2, but 5! And when I finished eating them, I simply nudged open the gate and had an adventurous birthday celebration all my own.

I don’t understand much about the strange squawking bundle at our house these days, but I’m glad everybody is home now, and I’ve decided to rest in realizing they still do love me. I’m also going to be grateful for whatever pen-time comes my way.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)