It’s late July and I took my English setter Rowdy for a pre-season workout. It’s been hazy, hot and humid, so our sessions are very early in the morning and then again in the evening. There isn’t anything more miserable for a setter wearing a fur suit than to run hard, so I pick the cooler times of the day for our training.
After her run we returned to the shade found in our front deck to cool down. I sat next to Rowdy while her huffing and puffing slowed, and I stroked her back. Every time I pet her a clump of white fur with brown spots pulled off. She was shedding.
Shedding normally occurs when spring becomes summer. The continuously rising temperatures combined with the increased daylight trigger their hair disassociation. For whatever reason Rowdy missed shedding earlier in the year. Her fur was falling off in big clumps at a time that was approaching the autumnal instead of the spring equinox.
I told my wife about it as she passed me a curry comb. Every three strokes filled up the comb to a point where I needed to clean it, and then it was back for more. In short order there was about as much dog hair as would fill up a small pillow. If we were in Colonial times we’d save it and stuff a mattress or use it to patch a hole in a wall.
And it occurred to me that Rowdy’s shedding fur was a lot like good writing. Some times it happens when I want it to and sometimes it does not. The game is long. Patience is key as is knowing when the time is right. I think that’s called Grace.