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As a child, I composed a non-sensical novella, “My Ice Cream Dream.” I wrote, illustrated, and self-published (cut-up cardboard and contact paper) my debut book. I was so proud of my silly adventure story, racing through Rocky Roads, skidding down Sundae Slides, and my riveting twist ending when I woke up covered in ice cream—was it a dream?

I’ve always loved writing and find boundless bliss in making things beautiful or at least appealing to my eyes. I wonder why I’ve only completed forty minutes of my online drawing class in the past 18 months, why I’ve waited. The lessons were joyous, and even my brother Chris, a darn good artist, told me I had a natural talent when I showed him my first shading attempts.

Contrastly, Mabel doesn’t delay amusement. She sweetly and patiently waits to guzzle and chase water from the hose when I water my plants. My fun-loving girl isn’t second-guessing what she dearly loves. And, at night, when Mabel is passed and stretched out on the sofa, she suddenly and stealthily appears (usually ungraceful and clunkily moving) beside the stove when I’m getting blueberries ready for our morning smoothie. I wouldn’t say I like smoothies, but since turning 50, my pants have told me I need fewer calories and more fresh produce, so I make my feeble breakfast Mabel-friendly so she can at least enjoy it. 

To be a dog and do what feels good for the sake of feeling good, not to wait or postpone pleasure, fun, silliness, or play. 

Last weekend, I pulled out my laptop, sketch pad, and pencils and dove into another 20 minutes of my drawing class while Mabel stretched out beside me. After I drew a horrifically terrifying (unintentionally) butterfly, I sketched a sweet, simple, smiley snail. Then, I illustrated a more complex, cute butterfly I named Bob. Then, ideas started gushing in (perhaps like Neopolitan Falls?) for stories from a mystical land where Gavin, the magical, marvelous Unicorn, and Finn, the hapless, happy-go-lucky King, teach kindness, compassion, and self-love. 

I’ve always said I’d love to write children’s books when I retire (it’s unlikely soon, but I’ll ensure Bark Pouch is in good hands when I do). Why should I wait? Even if it doesn’t do anything but bring me joy, why hold off any longer? 

So, today, I offer us all this: let’s take a cue from our dogs and do what makes us happy, even if no one sees it, even if we don’t share it on social media, even if we’d not even show those we love most yet. Let’s chase the water, go for the blueberries with gusto, and if you’re like Mabel, dive into your backyard kiddie pool whenever you walk outside. 

Speaking of waiting, if your favorite pouch size is our 50-gram (small) pouch, please don’t wait to purchase them. Due to equipment issues, staff time off, and delayed production from our pouch manufacturer, we’re running super low and will likely sell out before our delivery. Everything we have in stock is good for 8-12 months.

I’m sorry. I didn’t wait. I never postpone work. However, as we all know, even meticulous planning and forecasting don’t prevent issues like potentially running out of your best-selling product size.

*This article contains affiliate links to help supplement Mabel’s lifestyle (hopefully). When she came to me, she was eating Dollar Store food. Now, she eats better than me on my best days.

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