Tail wags through the air,
butt follows closely.
Pure joy.

I’ve been having a rough few days. My partner thinks it’s because of the Daylight Savings switch, and maybe she’s right. It’s true that I’ve had similar rough patches at around the start of spring, and historically I’ve attributed them to the sudden change in the pace of life around me. Being an introvert partnered with an extrovert, March usually feels like a whirlwind as my partner seemingly emerges out of her winter hibernation and starts going out everyday, either maintaining old relationships or building new ones. And I usually stick with what I’d been doing during the winter, which is either games or hobbies. But this year has been different - I’ve been just as outgoing (in my own way) this winter, skiing at least one day every week, meeting with my close friends, and deepening some of my shallower friendships. And yet, here I am in the second week of March, feeling like life’s been beating me up and stealing my lunch money.

Maybe part of this is the general state of the world. We’re going through times that feel historical, and in a sense they are. If this book is to be believed, we’re simply in the crysis part of a cycle that’s been happening for several centuries, and while it’s not the “end of times”, there are tough times looming for all of us. Every conversation I’ve had recently has visited this topic at some point, whether through the lens of family of my Canadian friends that are boycotting American goods, or friends whose investments continue to lose value, or the dismantling of various government apparatus and bring independent government organizations under the president’s control, or the efforts the Washington state government is undertaking to undermine the efforts of ICE and border control. On a more personal note, I’m on a paradoxically temporary permanent resident status, and cannot apply to make that actually permanent for another year at least. For a while I had labored under the impression that I could always fall back on my Indian citizenship in the worst case. However, I visited my family in India recently and spent six months there, talking with friends and family. Over that period, I witnessed all the ways in which a country that used to be fully secular on paper and (mostly) in practice has turned into a Hindu nation. I had a cousin I used to like comment on how dark my skin has gotten (being dark in India is read as being born into one of the “lower” castes) and then go on a long rant about why he hates his Muslim coworkers. I had a yoga teacher tell me proudly that he does “Savarkar’s work” everyday. I later learnt that Savarkar - a figure who was only briefly mentioned in my history textbooks in school - was a prominent Hindu Nationalist. I had my parents say things to me that I won’t repeat here. All things considered, moving back to India is no longer an option I hold in high regard. And so I’m doubly concerned about the length of time till I can make my temporary status more permanent.

Today felt especially rough for several reasons. At the end of the work day, I set out to go night skiing, only to end up being forced to turn back because the pass to the resort was closed due to inclement weather. After returning home, I decide to take our dog on a walk, hoping to tire him out a bit more. However, as soon as we came back home from the walk, he bounded up the stairs, picked up one of his squeaky toys and dropped it in my general direction, his tail wagging furiously in an unmistakeable invitation to “Play!”. Annoyed by his distinct lack of tiredness, I snapped “I’m not playing with you” as I walked past him upstairs, and out the corner of my eye I saw his tail stop wagging. I immediately felt sad that I’d made the dog sad but also resentful that he didn’t want to leave me alone. Couldn’t he see that I was feeling bummed? And then I thought - maybe he does see that I’m feeling down and that’s exactly why he’s inviting me to play with him. Maybe he recognizes that there is no better balm for a bruised soul than a vigorous game of tug and keep-away. So that’s exactly what I did; I came back downstairs, play-bowed to him and played with him for several minutes. And you know what? I think he was right. I do feel better. I’ll make an effort to listen to his advice more often.