Ah, January.  A new year, a fresh start on the pain.

I kid.  My knees actually haven't been as bothersome lately.  Perhaps it's the Doggie Yoga to which I've been accompanying my Two-Legged Pets.  Perhaps all the rain we've been receiving lately has perversely relaxed my knees.

Whatever the reason, I am grateful.  Any bit of relief is welcome, especially considering how crazy the humans have been lately.  Is there something about this time of year that leads my ape-descended fellow Earth inhabitants to lose all rationale thought?  My pets actually tried to put me in a sweater the other day.  A sweater.  With little doilies and fluffy balls of cotton.

I couldn't help but give them my saddest puppy dog face when Mother lorded over me the next day, a shredded pink mess hanging from her hand.

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So I'm getting older.  And have to go to the bathroom more often.

Deal.

The endless love I shower upon you, my Two-Leggeds, should more than make up for a quick bathroom respite here and there.

Recently my pets took me to visit others related to them -- who, I claim by default as my pets, too.  I enjoy seeing them.  They take pity on my haggard, osteoarthritis-riddled knees and slide me honey ham beneath the table.  (My pets work tirelessly to hide their food from me.  Like my knees could get any worse.)

But the car ride over irks me.  Something about the canned sounds, the lack of space, and the constant vibrations ... I step out of the car for a bathroom break and find my already sore knees unable to function.  Dizziness invariably ensues.

I thought humans were supposed to be the most brilliant creatures on earth.  But, after all this time, they still haven't figured out how to fix my knees, nor fly their cars -- thus achieving a smoother trip?

I guess I have to deal.

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Today my Two-Legged Pets took me to the vet.  Where I had my temperature taken.

I don't want to talk about it.

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The second day I arrived at my pets' house, I spotted the reading chair that would become my own throne -- soft, with a slight rocking sway.

Sure, it's needed a few extra sheets and a cotton comforter over the years to help alleviate pressure on my knees ... but lying on my throne is like floating in a cloud.

I can lie in it all day, observing the crazy antics of the Two Leggers -- racing in and out, in and out ... a coffee in one hand, one of those obnoxiously loud and vibrating squawk box "phones" in the other.

I can doze off as my pets stare at the moving picture box, transfixed by its flickering images and all-too-realistic sounds (my word, if I get spooked by one more suddenly-appearing-and-barking Canine, I'm going to smack someone with my food bowl).

And I can painlessly dream of my perhaps slightly misspent youth, spent chasing tail (literally) and eating, chewing, and nibbling on everything in sight.

My pets have all abdicated my throne to me, adding other places to recline around it.  It is my chair -- my place in the household.  They respect that.

Recognizing that respect feels good.  Because, I gotta say, when they start in with the baby talk, I wonder ...

It's not very often that I awaken happy. Contented.

But today was one of those days.

Debilitating winter colds and illnesses have plagued me the past several weeks -- made all the more annoying by the fact that my two-legged pets and I live in the Southwest ... a warm, dry environment that should prevent us from catching cold-induced, er, colds.

But this morning ... clarity.  An openness in my sinuses.  It seems the antibiotics have finally started working their magic.

I look outside at the sunshine with relief, instead of eyeball pain.

I breathe in the fluttering breeze, with nary a wheezing attack in sight.

Today is a good day.  And, for this moment, that is quite something.