Mabel obviously knows her Whitman.

Do I contradict myself?

Very well then I contradict myself,

(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Walt Whitman, Song of Myself 51

Mabel is a bulldog. She’s brazen, bodacious, bold. She’s one of those brawny, hefty, low-slung bulldogs, built like a brick house. I met her yesterday on my river walk. She’d just come up out of the water, dripping wet and ready for action. A taller dog came around the bend just then to find Mabel ready to go. Much romping ensued, Mabel very much holding her own.

Mabel is beautiful in and of herself. The icing on the cake of Mabel’s Mabel-ness, though, is her collar. She sports a sparkly pink collar studded with rhinestones. When I complimented Mabel, her mom said, “She’s so street, but she’s such a lady.”

Mabel knows she doesn’t have to choose between being “street” and being a lady. Mabel is who Mabel is, period.

You and I can be more than one thing, too. We don’t have to choose. We contain multitudes.

Photo Credit: Gabriela Torzsa on Unsplash