If I had paid attention to everything that was going on around me since day one, I would be a genius. Those teenage part-time jobs and great grandparent funerals were as much learning experiences as were the fishing trips when your grandfather made a point of showing you exactly how to hook the catalpa worm. Most of the time nobody says “pay attention, you’re going to be tested on this”. You just have to learn that you will be, at some point, responsible for all the material covered.
Everything and everybody is a lesson. Most don’t need to me mentioned aloud; they just need to be cataloged. I’ve always admired those that had the good sense to write down a time and a date when a fishing trip produced fifty crappie or a hunting trip a ten point buck; I’ve never had the discipline. I guess I’ve just assumed it was kind of like getting hit by lightning; you were in the right place at the right time…you were lucky…the planet’s aligned; take your pick. Either way I simply chalked it up to good fortune. Applying a mathematical formula to it just takes the fun out of it.
The older I get, the more my past relationships become distilled into one or more things I learned from them. They become themes, and often lessons. I think of this today as I look for a place to put the passing of a longtime friend. A friend that had more patience with me than I probably deserved; he would not only stand by one of my bad decisions, he would enforce it. A friend that I often think knew me better than I knew myself…and still liked me. This friend that took great pride at being second in command and who took it upon himself to improve my image was my dog. My family was his most prized possession; we were his herd.
From him I learned that nobody really likes a heated conversation; these sent him sulking to another room. I learned that if you are the smallest dog in the fight you had better be the most determined, and that if you issue ultimatums you have to be willing to back them up. I learned that if you greet people with a smile most will give one in return; if someone is scared of you, only humility will prove them wrong. I learned that the line between confidence and arrogance is a fuzzy one and explaining yourself should not hurt your pride. Being an ambassador for your species is not an elective, it is a requirement; we’re all in this together.
I honestly think that my friend held on for a few days to lessen the shock for me of his dying. His last few days were terrible and watching him suffer was just about more than I could stand; he was hanging on by a thread. I held my breath every time I went to the garage to check on him because I feared each time he would be dead. When my wife came home from work he wagged his tail and gave her as much of a smile as he could muster. After eating supper we discovered he had left the garage and was lying in the rain at the edge of the woods. Even from that distance we both knew that he had left us. It was time; the herd was all here.
Everything and everybody is a lesson. Most don’t need to me mentioned aloud; they just need to be cataloged. I’ve always admired those that had the good sense to write down a time and a date when a fishing trip produced fifty crappie or a hunting trip a ten point buck; I’ve never had the discipline. I guess I’ve just assumed it was kind of like getting hit by lightning; you were in the right place at the right time…you were lucky…the planet’s aligned; take your pick. Either way I simply chalked it up to good fortune. Applying a mathematical formula to it just takes the fun out of it.
The older I get, the more my past relationships become distilled into one or more things I learned from them. They become themes, and often lessons. I think of this today as I look for a place to put the passing of a longtime friend. A friend that had more patience with me than I probably deserved; he would not only stand by one of my bad decisions, he would enforce it. A friend that I often think knew me better than I knew myself…and still liked me. This friend that took great pride at being second in command and who took it upon himself to improve my image was my dog. My family was his most prized possession; we were his herd.
From him I learned that nobody really likes a heated conversation; these sent him sulking to another room. I learned that if you are the smallest dog in the fight you had better be the most determined, and that if you issue ultimatums you have to be willing to back them up. I learned that if you greet people with a smile most will give one in return; if someone is scared of you, only humility will prove them wrong. I learned that the line between confidence and arrogance is a fuzzy one and explaining yourself should not hurt your pride. Being an ambassador for your species is not an elective, it is a requirement; we’re all in this together.
I honestly think that my friend held on for a few days to lessen the shock for me of his dying. His last few days were terrible and watching him suffer was just about more than I could stand; he was hanging on by a thread. I held my breath every time I went to the garage to check on him because I feared each time he would be dead. When my wife came home from work he wagged his tail and gave her as much of a smile as he could muster. After eating supper we discovered he had left the garage and was lying in the rain at the edge of the woods. Even from that distance we both knew that he had left us. It was time; the herd was all here.
