Silent Night

We were just out for a late night stroll and someone spied a bunny. Grantley sort of gestures by freezing in place when she sees something she thinks I need to know about and I ask, "Bunny Sandwiches?” She's a pacifist and so usually I just thank her and we go on our way.

The spot where the bunny was tonight is where Grantley found Jesus.

It was not the momentous occasion that was the evening Grantley met her first horse. We were walking on Oak Park Avenue and they had a horse drawn carriage for some Hey! Guess What? Hemingway Was Born In Oak Park!-type occasion rolling around the corner and her eyes just about popped out of her head she had never seen such a gigantic dog except it wasn't a dog but she'd left her Mama before she'd learned about horsies and so she had to learn it on the streets and it wasn't pretty.

Jesus showed up in November when she was two years old. It was cold and there was snow-not the high quality hard-core snow we had this year but snow nonetheless and we came to the house on the corner of Scoville and Randolph and there He was.

Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus propped up in a yard and Grantley didn't like it one bit.

I'll never know if it was that she objected to the crass commercialism that is the holiday season or is she Jewish or Episcopalian or Buddhist or Samaritan or Hindu or Sufi or what have you. We've never discussed religion and I've always assumed she was exactly like me. She tries to love and accept everyone the way in which they are presented and wonders why people aren't looking as forward to petting her as she is to sniffing them but neither one of us are losing any sleep over it believe you me/nosireebob especially tonight when the air is so chilly and the quilts are so lovely and warm.