Follow The Big Dog
The last few days I’ve witnessed something really interesting with the Boxer-shark puppy, that feels like a metaphor for life.
I have to preface that by saying that my powers of observation have become incredibly keen. I’m not kidding…maybe just exaggerating….Bear with me here.
The human body is a miracle in regards to perpetuating our survival. It replaces the senses that have shut down due to lack of respect, with others that are freakishly heightened.
I have no business out driving the streets, running errands, aka living my life, with the puppy screaming in her crate in the back, but somehow I am. My guardian angel will be getting her hearing checked and going into seclusion after this, leaving no forwarding address.
I have no sense of humor, can’t remember where anything is and could cry at the drop of a hat, but damnit if I can’t smell puppy poop that’s two days old, under the couch, in a room that’s had the door shut the whole time. WTH?
I can hear the tiniest whimper in a dead sleep at 3am.
My husband, he can sleep through her wailing as if her foot is caught in a bear trap! How does he DO that?
Sleep deprivation has left me bleary minded and craving carbs…for survival, people!
Really?…I can hear you!
Anyway… We have a 6 inch step from the bedroom up into the bathroom.
If the Boxer-shark stands in front of it, she is the same height.
She struggles with the step.
Especially going down.
It’s from stone to a hard wood floor and she’s been launched, catapulted, flung and just plain rolled off of it this past week, many, many times, so I get the trepidation.
But she’s only cautious when she’s just sniffing and exploring and silently looking for havoc to wreak.
When the other dog is home and they’re running and growling and fighting/playing (I’m using the word playing when I really mean taunting.) She FLYS off that step with the grace and ease of one of the gymnasts from Cirque du Soleil. She doesn’t even look down, she’s a freakin’ professional, (she’s clearly gifted) Not a second’s hesitation!
If she STEPS off after much careful deliberation, when she’s alone, one paw timidly feeling for the floor, she inevitably falls, and then rolls…so it looks like she meant to do that.
Don’t we all do that? I do!
If I over think an obstacle, I can make it so scary that I inevitably falter.
Better to do a quick evaluation and sail right over it! Run then jump!
…Or follow the big dog.
I’m still deciding which metaphor I like better.
“She took a leap, and built her wings on the way down.”
Another week and the step will be a non-issue, she will have outgrown her fear.
What’s your bathroom step fear, and are YOU ready to follow the big dog and outgrow it?