julierichmond

The other night I was tucked into my bed, surrounded by our three dogs. Bernadette is a neurotic, little French Bulldog, gorgeous and Gollum like. She throws up more than she eats and has blue eyes.

Jack is the baby, with a nasty predilection for snapping at dogs that walk by the fence around our backyard, the sweetest lovey eyes and softest sigh, as he rests his head on my knee when I get home from work.

Chanel is the queen. She pouts, she snuggles, she can sleep for thirteen hours before, unhappily, jumping off the bed to go outside. She has the breath of a caveman who just ate rancid garbage. No, I don’t brush her teeth but I do give her those snacks that promise to help. They do. For about twenty minutes.

As I lay there, propped up on a pillow, water, novel, and remote nearby, I looked at the three of them. None of them were chosen by me or my husband. Colin, my son, gifted them to us about six or seven months apart. After Jack, I told him if he wanted to give me something, to please send me to spa for a week. Three dogs are too many.

As I lay there, my heart swelled, it exploded out of my chest. I loved my three motley crew of canines. I can’t explain it, the feeling- the why, the when, the what… Jack will occasionally drop a chewed up book near my foot. Chanel is very enthusiastic about washing my face with a tongue the size of my entire hand, but with that breath… well, it’s not that lovable. And Bernie is only loving when she senses I’m getting ready for breakfast.

But it felt so good, glorious even. Curled up under covers, looking at the three of them, and simply, loving them. Not because I chose them, or they chose me. Not because of some deep connection. Just because. Maybe love is magical because, for me, anyway, when I look closely at most of the objects of my deepest affection, it doesn’t make sense. There is no reason beyond the rush.

In 2026, the only thing that makes me feel better, gives me hope, never fails to offer joy, is that magical swell in my chest. For my dogs, my husband, my kids. My life. The new song by Finneas. An old song by Bruce. The sunset. A found slipper. My friends. A really good cookie.

Most of us have people we love, pets we love… a plethora of things and moments and art that we cherish. But in today’s world, we need to pause, and feel it, from our toes to our scalps, from the tips of our fingers to the swell inside our chest. It is easy to glide through the moments of things to do and skip over the feelings, because they are always there.

But they aren’t. Not unless we stop, make time and space and let it sweep us up for a moment or two, a night, or a lifetime. Feel the shiver and joy and warmth of love.

It’s all there is, after all.