Little Treasures

“One man’s trash is another’s man’s treasure.” It’s all a matter of choice.

Man is not alone in making choices. Animals choose their treasures, too. Dogs seem to gravitate toward bones, sticks, balls; cats opt for inedible parts of birds. Or moles. We learn that those are their treasures when they proudly lay them at our feet.

Shared treasures increase in value, apparently.

I have a personal treasure, a little silver ring, purchased in a shop in Yellow Springs, Ohio, many, many years ago. It’s been on my left index finger since then. A part of me. It’s slipped off several times, usually during cold weather. We’ve always been able to find it. Happily.

Until a week ago. It fell off and simply disappeared. We searched and searched. Even my son who is known to find the unfindable had to concede that it was gone.

I truly had to come to grips with its loss. It was one of those little, seemingly worthless, things that meant the world to me.

One night, a week or so after its disappearance, I had a dream that it was back on my finger. Such a vivid, happy, dream.

Later that day, as I got up from “my spot” in the den….the spot where I read, write, do crosswords, drink wine, take a nap……truly my spot… the ring was on the floor. Right smack-dab in front of me.   There was no way we could have missed it in our endless searches.

If you’re a cat person, you know exactly how it got there. Clearly, one of ours found it under something, knew it was his mother’s treasure and laid it at her feet. Oh, the joy!

If you’re NOT a cat person, well, then, your ring might still be still missing.

On the other hand, small, dead things wouldn’t constantly show up at your feet.

Choices. Always, so many choices.