Our dog Sophie likes to do stuff. She watches intently to see if our behavior indicates that we are ready to do something. When she decides we are going to do something she is off like a shot barking her head off trying to get us to get on with it.

Sophie is a hound. She is a hound of the first order. Hounds find stuff. They find stuff and hold it “at bay” so that you can come get it. They are not retrievers. If you ask a hound to bring you something like a tennis ball to play with they will look at you with a snicker and say, “If you want it, you go get it. If you want someone to bring you stuff, get a retriever.”

Sometimes we start to head out the door and someone suddenly remembers something and turns to go back to get it. Sophie is not amused. The look she gives you would make a school principal quiver in their boots. She lets you know clearly that she found and is holding at bay the very thing you need–the car. She looks out toward the garage and then back at us barking and her bark is LOUD.

Sometime back we started telling her “almost.” Almost is usually soon for a person and interminable if you are a hound. Almost. Sit down. Almost. Wait. Almost. Be Quiet. Almost. Ho hum. Almost. “Right, heard that one before.” Almost. “Are you kidding? “ Almost. “I could have gone to the store a gotten a steak by now.” Almost. “I’ll just lie down and take a nap.”

As we wait for our new house it feels like Almost. We realized that we have made a new life with new things that are rapidly becoming our old things. Almost. We are proud of ourselves for doing so well at rebuilding our lives and not missing a beat. Almost. Is this life we are living the real one? Almost. When we move into our new house will Almost be over?