100 days The first 100 days, a turbulent atmosphere in which to be raising an animal. Tilly is at 95 days, in a biting phase. Towel, newspapers, bills, cameras, people, rugs, toilet bowl brushes, brooms, Bibles, nothing is safe. And so the gentle efforts continue to adjust the little dog’s nature while leaving her spirit intact. Introduce her to the finer things. Encourage her to be an active participant in community events (here listening to CHO City Councilors and Charlottesville Area Tree Stewards at Arbor Day event). Participate in local politics. National is riotous, local makes a difference. I am having physical health issues. Dr. John Sarno would say I am having mental health issues. Maybe a combination of both. I have Doctor appointments. Tilly has reality appointments, the continuing secondary socialization and inoculation to the wildness of the world. Pepe the cat hammers home the cat lives matter message. Tilly learns to totally ignore the internal combustion engine with the help of most excellent neighbor Uncle Chuck. The water dog lessons continue with little advancement in attitude. Tilly has seen other dogs wet, she has fallen headlong into a neighbor’s fishpond (thankfully she held her breath while fully submersed). So, much like her 100 day companion, Tilly takes baby steps, practices incrementalism. Someday she will be a water dog. Her health has been good. Her appetite is Labradorian. Externally, she is good. But what of the inner dog? We hang around Buddhas at every opportunity. Catching the middle way by proximity. Does the dog occupy a celebrated role in any religion? one Working on it.