Peek-a-Boo ... I See You

In case I haven't said it yet this season, fall is my favorite time of the year. I absolutely love the cool weather, the explosion of color on the trees, the crunch of the leaves under my feet as I walk on the trail, the mums and the pumpkins and the hay bales on the porches of my neighbors ... yep ... fall is most definitely my favorite time of the year. It's been a picture-perfect fall day here in KC today, so extraordinarily perfect that Ollie and I took two long walks ... one early this morning and one just before sunset this evening, which explains why my tired little hound is snuggled in behind my back sleeping like a baby.

Those of you who've been reading along with me for a while know that Mr. Ollie has quite the vicious streak when it comes to rabbits and squirrels. I won't recount all the gory details, but suffice it to say that if you see some three-legged bunnies and squirrels around my neighborhood, my ferocious little hunter dog is probably responsible for said animals' missing appendages. We haven't seen any rabbits out on the trail for a while, but every evening we see tons of squirrels scurrying about as they gather acorns and other nuts for the coming winter. And every single time he sees one, Ollie almost rips my arm out of the socket as he takes off after the furry little beasts while they make a mad dash for the trees. Well ... except for this one particular squirrel we encountered this evening, that is. Instead of racing over to a nearby tree to escape the barking, obviously crazed and not to be trusted wiener dog who was in hot pursuit of his hide, this particular squirrel had a different idea altogether.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it ... Mr. Squirrel scampered over to a bench near the side of the trail and climbed onto the top and watched Ollie as he strained against his leash, barking like a banshee and trying with all his might to reach him. Nothing Ollie did rattled the squirrel ... he just sat there wiggling his tail, acorn in his mouth, watching my about to have a nervous breakdown dog with a calmness that only served to make Ollie even more frantic. Just as I was about to force Ollie to get back to walking, that stinking squirrel did something that stopped me dead in my tracks ... it started playing peek-a-boo with my dog. Really. Seriously. That squirrel held on to the top rail of the bench with his front paws and bobbed his head up and down behind the bench playing with Ollie. It worked, too ... my bark-o-maniac hound was so mesmerized by the game that he not only stopped barking, he sat down on his butt and watched for several minutes.

I know you're thinking I've finally crossed over into the land of lock me up and throw away the key crazy, but let me assure you that I'm well aware that squirrels and wiener dogs don't really play peek-a-boo. But I also know that the scene that unfolded before me this evening has caused me to really, really, really ponder how much I play peek-a-boo with the people I love and care about ... and I don't mean in a fun and playful way. I'm selective as to when, where and how I allow the people I love to see the real me ... to see who I really am ... to see what my mind really perceives to be truth ... to see the thoughts and feel the feelings that reside so deeply within me ... to see the love and concern that fills my heart ... to see me ... the very real me.

When I Skype with my granddaughters, we often play peek-a-boo ... I put my hat over my face or I pull my shirt up to hide behind, and then I say, "Where's Ghee?" And as Coraline and Amelie giggle and squeal, I reveal my face and shout, "Peek-a-boo! I see you!" Here's the thing, friends ... I think that's the only kind of peek-a-boo I want to play from now on. I don't want to just show up from time to time with the people I love or for the things I care about ... I want to be there every single moment, fully present, fully transparent, fully me.

Peek-a-boo ... I see you ... do you?