What is an Inner Flaneur ?

The Flaneur is a French word for the stroller of the 19th century who often walked his pet turtle though the streets of Paris, with no agenda. The internet is a Flaneur spot where people metaphorically stroll and link from site to site along the roadways of the web.

As an inner flaneur, I stroll in my thoughts. I use my thoughts to pen my ideas, my worries, my life story and my travels though this lifetime. I welcome all Flaneurs to stroll by my site and stop awhile or simply move along at whatever pace they feel may comfort them in their journey.

Sunday, February 7, 2010


If you live long enough and you pay attention, there are many experiences that can be painted with words.

The simple lives of animals are begging to be watched, and so are the natures other elements, the trees, the birds and the flowers. Poets have written villanelles, musicians have played violins that have captured the very essence of the natural world.

Chloe came to me after I had watched my beloved Duchess drift off to eternal sleep in the vet’s office. My son found the postcard on the crowded cork board outside the examining room. We had lost our corgi, and this was a sheltie. I thought back to my childhood days and my dog Lady, who was less than stellar in the behavior department!

Our baby captured our hearts when the family went to the breeder’s home. The yard was awash in chickens, goats and many other loving critters, and there were shelties running about the driveway. The day we went back to pick her up to take home, she nestled in my arms and slept in the little foam padded dog bed aside me in the bedroom.

My sheltie endured many years of extensive travel. We lived in a motor home for3 years and she never got used to the noise of the rig. One time a truck passing us on the left blew a tire and she was so afraid of the noise, she ran under my feet, while I was driving! It took her a long time to recover from that fright!

Nothing however was more unsettling than my Chloe’s recurring cough and diagnosis of Lyme disease. The disease affected her in such a way as she developed Congestive heart issues. There was something truly sad about listening to her cough, and know she had trouble breathing. She lie some days for eight straight hours, and one day we took her to the vet and they wanted to keep her for treatment. She was not well, and needed to be hospitalized.

I lie in the bed sobbing, thinking of the unfair way Chloe would be robbed of her new big yard and sweet summer grass to lie on, fresh and clear breezes to sniff. I wanted her to be able to enjoy the summer, without stress, no worry, and at my side.

The vet gave her some meds, which eventually would assist her to stablize, and breathe
easier. That night however, she came back home, went outside with my husband and lie in the cool dew in the grass. She was home. She lie as if reflecting, a cool breeze blowing through her soft fur, her nose pointed to the sky to capture the breeze

I had read her right. All she wanted was to enjoy the outdoors. The smells, the sounds, the grass underneath her soft belly. She worked hard to get to that point in life, the one we all hope for. To stop and smell the roses, and know in our hearts we are truly home.

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