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