Dogs love to dress up for their masters. Bud goes to the Halloween weenie roast every year as The Great Pumpkin sporting a huge orange globe-like felt expanse over his generous back with a bit of green and brown where the stem of the pumpkin belongs. Bud likes it because it attracts his two favorite kinds of friends: little doggies and little kids. Oh, for Christmas he proudly wears the red and green felt collar with silver bell-like ornaments as he surfs just beneath the snow for a discarded Taco Bell wrapper or the tasty carcass of a "not quick enough" squirrel. And, he's worn sunglasses and a Cubs cap (briefly) but only because its fun and attracts his friends.
That must be why the British ladies wore those retro hats to the Royal Wedding. It reminds of either a day at the pheasant farm or viewing a collection of extra terrestrial saucers on loan from Area 51. Now these ladies were, as they say, haute coutre which in Americanese means "hot stuff", as long as you didn't have to pay the tab. Actually, it was refreshing to realize that style and fashion have not been abandoned for Buckeye T-Shirts and Nikes. But then, our revolutionary forefathers wanted the opposite of what jolly old England had to offer: a king who made all of the decisions and the privilege of rank. And, we got it. We get to argue over everything. It seems we're in a constant state of anger.
When William and Catherine said "I will", and the strains of "Jerusalem" was in full throat in Westminster Abbey, it seemed all of England was united in a single purpose. Now maybe the purpose was "We're going to have one hell of a party for the next 3 days". Yet this was a validation of England culture as a still relevant nation. A nation with a thousand years of kings, queens, knights, sheriffs, poets and bards, beheadings, prime ministers and - yes - princesses.
Now comes a beautiful, modern princess with regal bearing and a smile that could disarm the hardest heart, marrying a search and rescue helicopter pilot whose life's destiny is to become King of England. Feathered and saucer-like hats (like doggie and kids' costumes) bring out the best in their wearers. Here, a dashing lieutenant's superbly cut red Irish Guards' uniform with blue sash and aviator's wings paired perfectly with a composed, slim brunette in a classic white satin gown trimmed in English lace all of which shouted to two billion watchers: "There is hope for all who look for the best in each other." And with that hope in each other comes hope for our time and, maybe, just maybe, for our kids' time.
Bud and I were struck by the wedding sermon. While It urged William and Kate to mutual love and support, and the gathered congregation to support them in marriage, it recognized the reality of life together in a world where others constantly work to divide loyalty and undermine respect. What pressure we put on 29 year-olds these days. "Change the world." William has been a work in progress and now with Kate - the world's newest rock star - perhaps they can. We need it. Especially the kids . . . and their little doggies.
Bud (and friend)
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Why Dogs Love Easter (and Spring)
The comings, goings, conversation and laughter from the house next door rode the Easter breeze like personal nvitations to Buddy: "Come in - pull up a bowl - eat your fill - lick my hand - scratch your back on the carpet - take a nap." Never mind that Bud was supposed to be helping plant some of the first petunias and vinca in Northern Indiana.
Earlier this holy morning little girls with ribbons trailing down their necks and tied in crisp bows behind green and yellow polka dotted dresses clamored for attention next to little boys with spiked hair tugging at their first neckties. Families gathered first to worship and then to fawn over the newest grandchild, laugh and eat. Life and family go on. Yes, Bud loves Easter and "Yes m'am, I'll have whatever you're having. Put that dish right over here."
Spring (they say) has come to Northern Indiana. While reviewing the late April afternoon breezes Bud's nose wiggles overtime, first embracing and then cataloging the location of each odor in a canine Excel spreadsheet. Retrieval is just a breeze a way. Our daily walks reveal the renewal of the life cycle of all plants and animals. The buds of trees and bushes crouch in preparation for their great crescendo of color and fragrance - the resurrection of life.
When it rains the sidewalks are busy with the journeys of thousands of earthworms scrambling foremost to find drier earth, but also to avoid the paws of the 72 pound Yellow Lab bearing down on them. The dawn honking of Canadian Geese as they skim the rooftops in search of a pond and then using their wide wings as the original flaps to flare out and ski to a perfect landing. Soon, Mallard ducklings will follow their mothers single file to and from the ponds as they learn the lessons of survival. Bud recognizes and embraces this annual rite and plays his part in the balance of natural life.
Easter Scripture tells of the rising to life of Jesus from his tomb. Death cannot conquer those who are alive in Jesus. They will have eternal life. It's easy to see this spark of life in nature and animals. This determination to survive, to live on. Humans are the only form of life that sins. Humans are also the only form of life that know they are going to die. Hmm.
Bud lives each day to the fullest in balance with his abilities and limitations (remember he is not sad that he doesn't know how to open the refrigerator or drive the car). We, however, live each day in fear of others (what they might say or think about or do to us) and regretting that which we cannot do. Meanwhile Bud and his friends give us daily lessons for balanced living, without fear, pausing only long enough to say "Sir, I'll have what you're having."
Happy Easter
Bud (and friend)
Earlier this holy morning little girls with ribbons trailing down their necks and tied in crisp bows behind green and yellow polka dotted dresses clamored for attention next to little boys with spiked hair tugging at their first neckties. Families gathered first to worship and then to fawn over the newest grandchild, laugh and eat. Life and family go on. Yes, Bud loves Easter and "Yes m'am, I'll have whatever you're having. Put that dish right over here."
Spring (they say) has come to Northern Indiana. While reviewing the late April afternoon breezes Bud's nose wiggles overtime, first embracing and then cataloging the location of each odor in a canine Excel spreadsheet. Retrieval is just a breeze a way. Our daily walks reveal the renewal of the life cycle of all plants and animals. The buds of trees and bushes crouch in preparation for their great crescendo of color and fragrance - the resurrection of life.
When it rains the sidewalks are busy with the journeys of thousands of earthworms scrambling foremost to find drier earth, but also to avoid the paws of the 72 pound Yellow Lab bearing down on them. The dawn honking of Canadian Geese as they skim the rooftops in search of a pond and then using their wide wings as the original flaps to flare out and ski to a perfect landing. Soon, Mallard ducklings will follow their mothers single file to and from the ponds as they learn the lessons of survival. Bud recognizes and embraces this annual rite and plays his part in the balance of natural life.
Easter Scripture tells of the rising to life of Jesus from his tomb. Death cannot conquer those who are alive in Jesus. They will have eternal life. It's easy to see this spark of life in nature and animals. This determination to survive, to live on. Humans are the only form of life that sins. Humans are also the only form of life that know they are going to die. Hmm.
Bud lives each day to the fullest in balance with his abilities and limitations (remember he is not sad that he doesn't know how to open the refrigerator or drive the car). We, however, live each day in fear of others (what they might say or think about or do to us) and regretting that which we cannot do. Meanwhile Bud and his friends give us daily lessons for balanced living, without fear, pausing only long enough to say "Sir, I'll have what you're having."
Happy Easter
Bud (and friend)
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Why Dogs Lick Grandkids
Steeled against the wind flowing past the open back window of the Jeep, Buddy is scenting whatever primal smell was airborne. It was grandkid time. At least for Buddy's human parents who were being drawn to worship again at the crib of the first-born grandkid, Ryan Phillip Zegarelli. Yellow Labs like Bud love the squeally sounds of kids playing at whatever game.
Kids are great fun and Bud can run and jump and lick them all with great delight. Yet, for this trip to the Holy Grandkid Grail, Bud was destined to visit and play with his 100 pound Black Lab friend J.J. and his human parents, Tom and Diana, who love J.J. like a son. That is, a son with full grazing rights in the kitchen. Pastrami, prime rib, sushi and whatgever is on the menu. Oh those prawns! All while Buddy's human parents are off to Atlanta to ooh and ahh and change the diapers of the first born of the Noland-Zegarelli alliance.
If interbreeding is a genetic concern, not to worry about a mid-western Lutheran girl marring a Sleepy Hollow (read The Headless Horseman) New York Catholic guy of Italian descent and producing (so far) a blue-eyed, auburn haired boy that is fixated on laptops and cellphones - not to mention an 82" 3D LCD TV. But enough about Mark Zuckerberg and technology. Like ice cream and lollipops, seven month old grandkids are precious enough to lick again and again. If anyone doubts there is a life force within the the human form - observe a seven month old flail his arms for the next bite of pureed sweet potatoes while eyeing the remote control to the monstrous LCD screen in front of him.
Curiosity is rumored to have killed cats. Yet the curiosity of Yellow Labs and grandkids is close behind. For both, the smell and feel of anything earthly is irresistible. Bud's nose is in our clothes and crotches while grandkids stuff everything in their mouths savoring the feel and the memories. This is how community is built and preserved. Smell, taste and feel. But sight, well, has this been airbrushed or cut and pasted? You never know for sure. Smells and tastes those are forever, unless Steve Jobs is VERY good.
It's about reality. You can't fake out dogs or kids - especially grandkids. If you lick them they know they are loved forever - unconditionally. And, isn't that what we all crave? To be licked with unconditional love by our family and friends? Labs, Beagles and other doggies have the spark of compassion and love for humans, evidenced by unfailing love licks - like we would lick or kiss our precious grandkids and others we love.
Eternal bonds of friendship. "While our bonds might be strained by passion, our bonds of friendship should never be broken" spoke President Lincoln during the Civil War. Buddy knows this instinctively. Why don't we? Would that these words would overcome our hearts in today's discussions. But no, our short-term agendas flood the field of our discussions.
Life is fragile. Human events and history move quickly, yet harsh words spurred by emotions etch hurtful words in granite on our hearts. Should our very lives be demanded of us tonight, what choices would we make? Would we continue to make our earthly arguments to fulfill our agendas? Or, would we lay the foundation for a just and peaceful tomorrow for our grandkids (and our doggies)?
Yea, Yellow Labs and their friends have so much to tell us about life and the future. Especially the future. Will it really be any different than it is today? Won't there be love and hate, selfishness and compassion, rich and poor, powerful and weak, the living and the dying? But, will we choose to lick the hated, the selfish, the poor and the dying? Or, will we choose to lick the loved, the selfish, the powerful and the rich and the living? Ah, tough choices if we contemplate our epitaph.
But, if we realize that the choices our grandkids will have tommorow are mostly decided by the choices we make today: to love or to hate, to lift up the weak or the powerful, to help the rich or the poor, our choices are clear. Will we will know whom to lick? Yes, Labs, Golden Retrievers, Beagles, Poodles, Dachsunds and their brethren know upon whom to present their precious slobber. Why can't the humans get it? Hey, Bud, lick my hand again. I love you.
Buddy and Friend (for now)
Kids are great fun and Bud can run and jump and lick them all with great delight. Yet, for this trip to the Holy Grandkid Grail, Bud was destined to visit and play with his 100 pound Black Lab friend J.J. and his human parents, Tom and Diana, who love J.J. like a son. That is, a son with full grazing rights in the kitchen. Pastrami, prime rib, sushi and whatgever is on the menu. Oh those prawns! All while Buddy's human parents are off to Atlanta to ooh and ahh and change the diapers of the first born of the Noland-Zegarelli alliance.
If interbreeding is a genetic concern, not to worry about a mid-western Lutheran girl marring a Sleepy Hollow (read The Headless Horseman) New York Catholic guy of Italian descent and producing (so far) a blue-eyed, auburn haired boy that is fixated on laptops and cellphones - not to mention an 82" 3D LCD TV. But enough about Mark Zuckerberg and technology. Like ice cream and lollipops, seven month old grandkids are precious enough to lick again and again. If anyone doubts there is a life force within the the human form - observe a seven month old flail his arms for the next bite of pureed sweet potatoes while eyeing the remote control to the monstrous LCD screen in front of him.
Curiosity is rumored to have killed cats. Yet the curiosity of Yellow Labs and grandkids is close behind. For both, the smell and feel of anything earthly is irresistible. Bud's nose is in our clothes and crotches while grandkids stuff everything in their mouths savoring the feel and the memories. This is how community is built and preserved. Smell, taste and feel. But sight, well, has this been airbrushed or cut and pasted? You never know for sure. Smells and tastes those are forever, unless Steve Jobs is VERY good.
It's about reality. You can't fake out dogs or kids - especially grandkids. If you lick them they know they are loved forever - unconditionally. And, isn't that what we all crave? To be licked with unconditional love by our family and friends? Labs, Beagles and other doggies have the spark of compassion and love for humans, evidenced by unfailing love licks - like we would lick or kiss our precious grandkids and others we love.
Eternal bonds of friendship. "While our bonds might be strained by passion, our bonds of friendship should never be broken" spoke President Lincoln during the Civil War. Buddy knows this instinctively. Why don't we? Would that these words would overcome our hearts in today's discussions. But no, our short-term agendas flood the field of our discussions.
Life is fragile. Human events and history move quickly, yet harsh words spurred by emotions etch hurtful words in granite on our hearts. Should our very lives be demanded of us tonight, what choices would we make? Would we continue to make our earthly arguments to fulfill our agendas? Or, would we lay the foundation for a just and peaceful tomorrow for our grandkids (and our doggies)?
Yea, Yellow Labs and their friends have so much to tell us about life and the future. Especially the future. Will it really be any different than it is today? Won't there be love and hate, selfishness and compassion, rich and poor, powerful and weak, the living and the dying? But, will we choose to lick the hated, the selfish, the poor and the dying? Or, will we choose to lick the loved, the selfish, the powerful and the rich and the living? Ah, tough choices if we contemplate our epitaph.
But, if we realize that the choices our grandkids will have tommorow are mostly decided by the choices we make today: to love or to hate, to lift up the weak or the powerful, to help the rich or the poor, our choices are clear. Will we will know whom to lick? Yes, Labs, Golden Retrievers, Beagles, Poodles, Dachsunds and their brethren know upon whom to present their precious slobber. Why can't the humans get it? Hey, Bud, lick my hand again. I love you.
Buddy and Friend (for now)
Monday, February 14, 2011
Young Dogs Rule!
The two Jack Russells were strutting their stuff on the sidewalk - one in purple and the other in a pink polka dot blanket. The yipping began when they spotted Buddy, nose immersed in a snow bank hoping for a sniff of, well, anything. You'd thought they were 100 pounds of Rottweiler or Pit Bull. But no, just two scrawny wannabees disturbing the peace. But Bud doesn't return barks, just tail wags and strong interest. At five years old he's content to observe but not lead. Yet its clear that the young dogs rule the walk and the field. Old dogs just fade away. Not much different than society.
Young dogs ruled when Obama became president and when Mubarek became the un-president. The future of everything belongs to youth. And why not? That which they want will be that which they will have to deal with. The Grammys - awards given to best new song, album and group are all about the now and the future. Oh yeah, Bob Dylan got two minutes to mumble something about the unfairness of society but was drowned out by Lady Gaga, Eminem and Justin Bieber - average age 19 - all singing about hoped-for relationships.
The most powerful force on Earth is neither gravity nor compound interest (sorry Albert Einstein). It's Facebook, Twitter, instant messaging, cell phones and IPads! Phone calls and letters are as obsolete as emails and barks. Folks past 40 don't get the significance of social networking. To them its cruising the crowd at a singles bar or the drive-inn hamburger joint. Real social networking is much more than sharing photos of little Ryan - precious as he is - but it is to declare winners and losers among world leaders, authors, designers, styles, videos, singers, chefs, restaurants, cars, gadgets and . . . . . . yes, friends.
The digital world is brutally cruel, yet honest. Survival of the fittest and, somewhere, Charles Darwin must be smiling. Yet it is also inherently fair. It is the future. Those who have denied the future are destined not to participate in it. Anyone who doubts and ignores this is destined to oblivion. It's not the Anti-Christ or even the devil. While the elders complain and object, young religious leaders deftly manipulate IPads with vastly more information than floppy Bibles every could. Followers, faithful or not, have access to daily inspiration for action: to organize, to follow, to oust, to install, to inspire, to buy, to sell to like and not to like.
It's information and . . . information is power. Those who transit in the dark and the depths will, eventually, be exposed like frauds on Wikipedia. This is also the power to devastate or at least de-friend. Friends on a bright sunny day become alien outcasts on another bright sunny day. You can't take it personally. In the world of telephones and letters, unfriending was, well, awkward and impolite. Today it's just business.
Whoever said that "youth is wasted on the young." was someone who wasted her youth and now wants to get in on the game. The game of youth is energy and passion and doing today what you won't and can't do tomorrow. To have the whole future of the world laying before you is like having your lover in your arms as you lay out your life together. Passion, love, commitment and singleness of purpose are vowed. While at once sacred and beautiful more often it becomes the path not taken. The vow not kept as the passion is doused with reality.
Yes, young dogs rule until the yet younger dogs appear. Those young dogs of today will be the sotten and defeated dogs of tomorrow. Dogs have the instincts to know when a new ruler comes on the scene. The pecking order of the pack is ... well . . . . . impeccable. There is little, if any, dissent. Yesterday's youth shuffle to the rear content to support the youthful leader. Why is it so hard for us? To dream events that seem impossible is to inspire the pack forward toward achievement. Yet, old dogs can neither create nor capture a vision of the future. This is best left to young dogs. After all, we trained them. What is there to fear?
Buddy and Friend (for now)
Young dogs ruled when Obama became president and when Mubarek became the un-president. The future of everything belongs to youth. And why not? That which they want will be that which they will have to deal with. The Grammys - awards given to best new song, album and group are all about the now and the future. Oh yeah, Bob Dylan got two minutes to mumble something about the unfairness of society but was drowned out by Lady Gaga, Eminem and Justin Bieber - average age 19 - all singing about hoped-for relationships.
The most powerful force on Earth is neither gravity nor compound interest (sorry Albert Einstein). It's Facebook, Twitter, instant messaging, cell phones and IPads! Phone calls and letters are as obsolete as emails and barks. Folks past 40 don't get the significance of social networking. To them its cruising the crowd at a singles bar or the drive-inn hamburger joint. Real social networking is much more than sharing photos of little Ryan - precious as he is - but it is to declare winners and losers among world leaders, authors, designers, styles, videos, singers, chefs, restaurants, cars, gadgets and . . . . . . yes, friends.
The digital world is brutally cruel, yet honest. Survival of the fittest and, somewhere, Charles Darwin must be smiling. Yet it is also inherently fair. It is the future. Those who have denied the future are destined not to participate in it. Anyone who doubts and ignores this is destined to oblivion. It's not the Anti-Christ or even the devil. While the elders complain and object, young religious leaders deftly manipulate IPads with vastly more information than floppy Bibles every could. Followers, faithful or not, have access to daily inspiration for action: to organize, to follow, to oust, to install, to inspire, to buy, to sell to like and not to like.
It's information and . . . information is power. Those who transit in the dark and the depths will, eventually, be exposed like frauds on Wikipedia. This is also the power to devastate or at least de-friend. Friends on a bright sunny day become alien outcasts on another bright sunny day. You can't take it personally. In the world of telephones and letters, unfriending was, well, awkward and impolite. Today it's just business.
Whoever said that "youth is wasted on the young." was someone who wasted her youth and now wants to get in on the game. The game of youth is energy and passion and doing today what you won't and can't do tomorrow. To have the whole future of the world laying before you is like having your lover in your arms as you lay out your life together. Passion, love, commitment and singleness of purpose are vowed. While at once sacred and beautiful more often it becomes the path not taken. The vow not kept as the passion is doused with reality.
Yes, young dogs rule until the yet younger dogs appear. Those young dogs of today will be the sotten and defeated dogs of tomorrow. Dogs have the instincts to know when a new ruler comes on the scene. The pecking order of the pack is ... well . . . . . impeccable. There is little, if any, dissent. Yesterday's youth shuffle to the rear content to support the youthful leader. Why is it so hard for us? To dream events that seem impossible is to inspire the pack forward toward achievement. Yet, old dogs can neither create nor capture a vision of the future. This is best left to young dogs. After all, we trained them. What is there to fear?
Buddy and Friend (for now)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
WHY DOGS LOVE WEDDINGS
Buddy knew something was up. His bed, food and dishes were being loaded into the car while he was still in the house. Soon he joined his earthly belongings in the car. Head stuck outside the lowered back window, nose pointing into the cold night air rushing at him at 35 miles per hour, we drove the short distance to visit J. J., a shiny Black Lab. Buddy would employ his good social skills to gain the run of the house with J.J. during Jenny's wedding in Atlanta.
Jenny married Brian last Saturday in Atlanta. Jenny grew up in Fort Wayne while Brian grew up in Los Angeles. This was not two high school sweethearts reconnecting. More like the forces that guides most couples to connect: friends and fate. Like a field of dreams to which "people will most definitely come", a wedding is the most time honored ceremony cementing bonds of affection and creating relationship stability. Few traditions have survived since the ascent of humans like marriage and weddings. Oh, did I mention the party? While Buddy gets the benefit from the stability, he would love the party!
That's why they came from L.A., Wellington, Glendale, Sleepy Hollow, Boston, Minneapolis, New York, Fort Wayne and Atlanta. It was as if their presence was required to validate the latest evidence of what they have always known to be true and good. Cousins and cousins-in-law, aunts and uncles, sorority sisters, teammates, colleagues, dear friends and of course parents. Early in the party older guests were honored with music they could actually remember and dance to. A marriage longevity contest yielded an aunt and uncle married 45 years. "During the rough patches, look for the good parts" was the advice given to the newly minted couple and by inference to the rest of us. Good advice for all relationships.
Lady Gaga, Jay-Z and others later graced the DJ's turntable ousting Andy Williams and Ray Charles as the witnesses' graceful two-step dances gave way to dancers' flailing arms and legs trying to summon the best for Jenny and Brian. The ceremony and party satisfied tradition and guaranteed it would continue for others.
Plenty of memories and predictions, laughs, drink and food, gifts, advice and best wishes. Bud would have loved it, especially the fumbled hors d' overes. And so did we. Our best wishes to Jenny and Brian. Be sure to always look for the good in each other.
Diana, JJ's mom asked if Buddy went alone to other rooms during the day? "No Ma'm, no need to go looking for him. He'll be as close as hosiery to a leg - your leg." Buddy's a family dog. Our family. Your family. The neighbor's family. And, with those great social skills, he would absolutely love the wedding. Why there are people hugging, talking, walking, dining, dancing, laughing and smiling - broadly. Bud has all of those skills and more. Need your hand or foot licked? Need that dropped Asiago cheese and cracker picked up? Want a few white hairs on your pants? Bud's on it. Labs are bred to be part of a family and nothing defines family more than a wedding!
Jenny married Brian last Saturday in Atlanta. Jenny grew up in Fort Wayne while Brian grew up in Los Angeles. This was not two high school sweethearts reconnecting. More like the forces that guides most couples to connect: friends and fate. Like a field of dreams to which "people will most definitely come", a wedding is the most time honored ceremony cementing bonds of affection and creating relationship stability. Few traditions have survived since the ascent of humans like marriage and weddings. Oh, did I mention the party? While Buddy gets the benefit from the stability, he would love the party!
That's why they came from L.A., Wellington, Glendale, Sleepy Hollow, Boston, Minneapolis, New York, Fort Wayne and Atlanta. It was as if their presence was required to validate the latest evidence of what they have always known to be true and good. Cousins and cousins-in-law, aunts and uncles, sorority sisters, teammates, colleagues, dear friends and of course parents. Early in the party older guests were honored with music they could actually remember and dance to. A marriage longevity contest yielded an aunt and uncle married 45 years. "During the rough patches, look for the good parts" was the advice given to the newly minted couple and by inference to the rest of us. Good advice for all relationships.
Lady Gaga, Jay-Z and others later graced the DJ's turntable ousting Andy Williams and Ray Charles as the witnesses' graceful two-step dances gave way to dancers' flailing arms and legs trying to summon the best for Jenny and Brian. The ceremony and party satisfied tradition and guaranteed it would continue for others.
Plenty of memories and predictions, laughs, drink and food, gifts, advice and best wishes. Bud would have loved it, especially the fumbled hors d' overes. And so did we. Our best wishes to Jenny and Brian. Be sure to always look for the good in each other.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
In the beginning . . .
was the first blog - the GodBlog - going on and on how He created this and that, you and me. Too bad that no pictures or videos survived (the flood?); but good for Him that no critic's comments survived either! Imagine dueling commentary between FoxNews and MSNBC. Back then He had the media all to Himself. Lucky!
So, on this December 30th of another year the question of what will we change or do in 2011 that will mean a damn thing to us or to anyone. That's probably a bit heavy - unless you believe in the George Bailey phenomenon. I know that I do.
Happy 2011. Now do something with it friends!
Don Noland
So, on this December 30th of another year the question of what will we change or do in 2011 that will mean a damn thing to us or to anyone. That's probably a bit heavy - unless you believe in the George Bailey phenomenon. I know that I do.
Happy 2011. Now do something with it friends!
Don Noland
A Mid-Winter Reflection On Foot Gnawing & Other Faults
Friends: Northern dogs love cold, snow, wind and OUT. Buddy, our five year old yellow Lab, craves out - even in the midst of frigidness. Never asks to go in. I don't believe that the dog Creator gave Labs any feeling of temperature - at least below 32 degrees. His elongated snout finds tasty tempting smells under six inches of snow. After snorting the snow off of his nose he bounds toward the next odorous carcass cocksure of fried chicken or at least the remains of an unlucky squirrel. I can't help but wonder at the pure feral nature of animals if allowed to be themselves and OUT. A nose that carefully reviews the breeze for hints of a dog or corn beef and cabbage cooking blocks a way.
Observers of dogs know they are completely comfortable with who they are. Not an ounce of pretention. Nor do they pine to be another dog, to open the door or drive the car. Admittedly, dogs secretly would like to be able to open the fridge or that damned cabinet drawer, bag or lid where the food is kept. And who cannot but marvel at the never failing wagging of the tail upon the master's return from OUT. But that our housemates' greetings were as faithful and sincere.
Of course our lives are hopelessly more complicated than Buddy's. We worry what others think when we are drooling or are contentedly gnawing on our foot with eyes half closed, savoring the moment. Buddy spends no time trying to impress or fool others. It must be his self-confidence. Yet, we spend enormous amounts of time thinking about how we will fool others. It must be our desperate need to be accepted - no matter what - yet knowing that we will not be by most people. Daily disappointments. To summon sleep some of us must crowd out our failings with the promise of another day or a glass of wine. Some of us pray for forgiveness and strength, half-believing that God's grace is really for us.
Sometimes in his sleep Buddy will rapidly move his feet as if running and occasionally let out a bark awakening him. I don't think these are reactions to daily failure. Rather they are a salute to the relationships he cherished from the day. Could that we were able to cherish how we advanced our human relationships rather than worry about when we gnawed on our foot or drooled. Of course one sure way is to wear woolen socks to bed. Sleep well, friend.
Don Noland
Observers of dogs know they are completely comfortable with who they are. Not an ounce of pretention. Nor do they pine to be another dog, to open the door or drive the car. Admittedly, dogs secretly would like to be able to open the fridge or that damned cabinet drawer, bag or lid where the food is kept. And who cannot but marvel at the never failing wagging of the tail upon the master's return from OUT. But that our housemates' greetings were as faithful and sincere.
Of course our lives are hopelessly more complicated than Buddy's. We worry what others think when we are drooling or are contentedly gnawing on our foot with eyes half closed, savoring the moment. Buddy spends no time trying to impress or fool others. It must be his self-confidence. Yet, we spend enormous amounts of time thinking about how we will fool others. It must be our desperate need to be accepted - no matter what - yet knowing that we will not be by most people. Daily disappointments. To summon sleep some of us must crowd out our failings with the promise of another day or a glass of wine. Some of us pray for forgiveness and strength, half-believing that God's grace is really for us.
Sometimes in his sleep Buddy will rapidly move his feet as if running and occasionally let out a bark awakening him. I don't think these are reactions to daily failure. Rather they are a salute to the relationships he cherished from the day. Could that we were able to cherish how we advanced our human relationships rather than worry about when we gnawed on our foot or drooled. Of course one sure way is to wear woolen socks to bed. Sleep well, friend.
Don Noland
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