I was telling a good friend today about my “Making Spaces” class which is offers an intensive exploration of the character of spaces we inhabit with a significant component of in-class discussion and analysis of images of works of preeminent architects/designers. When I shared with her that one of the reasons I like this class so much is because of the teacher who is from West Africa. As I described his slight compact body that he moves with ease and grace around the classroom and that he always seems to have a smile on his lips, a laugh at the ready and a sparkle in his eyes, my friend replied, “He’s like a shrimpppppp”. At first I was a little appalled that my friend would make such a disparaging remark about my professor, but as her thoughts unfolded I realized she was referring to my very special Cairn Terrier that I had for over 14 years whose formal name was “Breakfast” but whose nickname was “Shrimp”. And as with most of the nicknames that we assign our pets, “shrimp” got stretched out to “shreeeeeeemp” because when we said it that way it would always make Breakfast curl her head under and wag her tail at you in a flirting manner.

Actually, we should all be so lucky as to be compared to the Shreeeeeeeemp dog. She was an amazing little feisty 13-pound burst of energy all head together with blonde and brown wirehairs. I’m pretty sure that when she was born she just burst out of her mother’s womb and began charging around the room laughing at the top of her lungs. She came to live with me when she was just a pup on her way from Mexico to Atlanta. I insisted that her human mom leave her with me instead of taking her on to Atlanta with her. I’m so glad she did. At that time, my Golden Retriever who was a mega dog and my very best friend was dying from cancer. Colby began grooming Breakfast with the responsibility of taking care of me (I’m just sure of it). Sometimes, especially after a particular rigorous therapy session, Colby would return home exhausted and lay on the cool floor to take a nap. Inevitably, Breakfast would dart out of somewhere and begin chewing at Colby’s paws, ears and nose. All of this would usually end up in a big cuddling match with Colby wrestling Breakfast down under one arm and soothing her with his big licks.

As Breakfast got older her energy never seemed to cease. Even at ten years old when we would drive out to Fredericksburg to hike up Enchanted Rock, if we picked her up to carry her to the top she would squirm out of our arms and insist on barreling up to the top on her own. Now, yes, when we finally got home did we have to massage her poor sore joints so she could sleep? You bet but then nobody would witness this but us so she was safe to relax!

I’m so glad that my friend reminded me of the Shreeeeeemp dog today because my heart was immediately filled with giggles. May we all learn to have a Shreeeeeeemp attitude about life!