This morning mama skipped both work (not a hard decision) and yoga teacher training (aaarrrgh) because she had a swollen tonsil -- but she was not sick enough to stay in bed. Thus, as she is wont to do, she took me for a few laps in the pool, even as she just sat on the side and kept from getting her head wet.
Mama and I love the water. She almost drowned when she was a young girl, as her brothers grappled for her in the swimming pool and proceeded to drop her; she was in about 15 feet before they noticed the object of their conflict was missing (such a common occurrence in life, hehe). But when she did learn to swim at age 11 -- in 1975, thanks to swimming lessons with Bert Lozada that cost her parents a then-princely sum of P400 -- she became a water baby. Mama is happiest when she is tasting salt, fighting waves, and feeling the sun on her skin, UV rays be damned.
When she got me, she initiated me slowly into the pool, as the Labrador guide books advised her. I was a bit apprehensive then about the cool blue stuff, although I was no longer a small puppy at 7 months, but I immediately knew it was something familiar, something strong and good. I waved my webbed feet -- Labs have webbing between our toes, ya know -- and I knew I was home, too.
Now I go with Mama everywhere there's water, if she can help it. She;s been promising to bring me to Boracay, but I'm still waiting for that to materialize. We both find happiness of a deep, quiet, indescribable sort, a happiness we can enjoy even in solitude, when we're in the water, especially the ocean.
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