Of Dogs and Deities

Just got back from my evening walk with Maya.  Twilight is coming earlier already–aaack!–and I read on Accuweather (which is notoriously inaccurate) that the Upper Midwest, which envelops the Land O’ Cheese, can expect an early frost this year.  The blessed event will occur somewhere in mid-September.  You gotta be freakin’ kidding me.  We just got rid of winter in June.  Winter in this part of the country lasts way too long for this Illinois girl, so I long for a proper winter where snow falls for the first time around Thanksgiving and the daffodils are in full bloom by mid-April.  Guess I’ll have to shop for some new woolies instead.

We ran into some unusual twilight delicacies for Miss Maya tonight.  There was a small, winged and squealing creature that she felt obligated to pick up in the Bunny Field (another Poohlike name).  It took me a few pokes with a stick to be sure it was not a rabid, frothing bat, but a baby bird instead.  After another type of poo, we crossed the street to deposit the matter in the trash can by the tennis court (because it inspires them to play better I can’t stand to carry it for long).  Next Maya found the internal organs of a tennis ball, which looked as if they had been dragged through a pool of saliva, rolled in parking lot leavin’s, and aged in the sun for several days.  Maya thought it was divine.  She carried it for blocks–occasionally shoving her head between my knees to encourage me to take it and give it a try.  I declined.  In fact, I eventually made her drop it and leave it, because I didn’t want her consuming the thing at home.  I’d have to boil her mouth or something.

It was after all this that I was thinking about how our relationships with our kids and our pets are often like the relationship God has with us.  For now, I’ll deal with the doggie analogy.  I delight in her beauty and her skills, and I want to her to be in situations that put them to their best use.  Real-life agility would be perfect.  We’ll see if she’ll ever do contrived doggie obstacle courses.  She loves leaping over logs, slogging through swamps, and long-jumping over creeks.  She is pure joy when she runs free, and she stops frequently and looks back at me to check in.  She also runs to me just to get a pat or shove my hand before she runs off again.  And then…she often sticks her nose into empty cups or licks carcasses and junk food she finds in a ditch, and they sometimes make her sick.  She wades into the bluest muck she can find, and when I demand that she come out, she looks at me defiantly and plunges her head in.  (And I love her for that stubbornness and her attitude that hey, I’m beautiful, but I’m tough–but it’s a pain in the ass.)  As far as training her to walk on the leash without straining so often, I stop whenever she puts pressure on the leash and guide her back to my side, all the while looking ahead at where we are going.  When she stops trying to lead, I move ahead toward our goal with her at my side.  Does this need any further explanation?!!

Hopefully I’m a merciful deity to the little furball.  She’s grown up into such a beautiful, brave young dog.

 Maya run

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~ by rebuildingholly on August 17, 2013.

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