Licking the Pavement

August 7, 2018.Reading time 5 minutes.

A few weeks ago, I watched my brother-in-law’s dogs while they spent a week at the beach. They’ve got two dogs: Maggie and Loopy (*name changed to protect the crazy). Maggie is a middle-aged chocolate lab. If you’ve ever owned a lab, you know that middle-aged can still mean terrible twos. Labs often live a decade as a puppy then become senior citizens overnight. I guess that’s what makes them so lovable.

Maggie is the exception. She has always been calm and sweet. She’s just laid back by nature. They found out recently that she is diabetic and I had to give her a shot of insulin in the mornings. This proved rather tricky – only because I didn’t listen very well when instructions were given.

This is a recurring theme in my life. I like to think of it as a cute little quirk, but it is often frustrating when I am left to do a task with no remembrance of how to do it… and from the inside looking out, I imagine this “quirk” is mind-numbingly bothersome to my family. When I take time to consider this, I often think I should change my ways and do better. But then I forget what I was thinking and move on to more fruitful imaginings. After all, we deserve a few eccentricities when we pass 50.

Back to the dogs…

Maggie and I weren’t working well together. For the first few mornings, she wasn’t very thrilled to see me coming with the shot and even though she is mellow, she does weigh 100 pounds and is tall enough that her bucks can reach sensitive areas. But then I discovered wet dog food. Wet dog food smells like a moldy, damp cellar after a possum has crawled in and died on a hot day. But to a dog, it must be like a chocolate éclair. She woofed it down and didn’t even notice the prick of the needle on her neck. Perfect. And this became our routine (and was evidently the instructions provided had I listened.)

But where is Loopy?

When set free in the morning, Loopy bolted straight to a puddle left by rain run-off from the car. I found her licking the pavement. In a panic, I checked to see if I had neglected to leave the water. Nope, three full bowls of nice, clean h2o – and yet that dog preferred to lick the pavement. Every morning it was the same thing. I tried coaxing her with bottled water, treats, and a ball to play with. No dice, she ran straight for the puddle. With plenty of better options, she only wanted to lick dirty water from the pavement.

One day during the week, my lovely wife had a birthday. Although you wouldn’t believe it to see her, she has joined me in the half-a-century club. We took her to a fun, loud, Italian dinner. A few tables away, there was a family of four who quietly interacted with their phones during the whole meal. I kept stealing glances and at some point, it dawned on me… they’re licking the pavement. With better options all around, they are glued to little electronic devices.

I could moralize more, but I’m as guilty as the next guy. Whether it is Instagram, football, our careers, or any myriad of other distractions, we get stuck wasting time on temporal things instead of investing in things that matter – our family, friends, and other human relationships. We lick the pavement. Some things are unavoidable. We have to work and get things done. But be honest, we’ve all got the rocky, pebbly taste of wasted time on our tongues and time is a finite resource. What’s the answer?

As much as possible, let’s stop licking the pavement lick the important people in our lives instead!

Wait… that doesn’t sound right at all.

Funday, Bunday

June 7, 2017.Reading time 4 minutes.

Everyone’s home for summer! At my house that means late nights, excessive noise, empty pantries, and lots of making fun of dopey dad. It also means the home movies come out. We love our home movies. The girls can watch them for hours as if binge-watching a Netflix series. Me, I usually get a little stir crazy after a half an hour and leave to do a chore. When I come back and ask for a recap, they will either roll their eyes at me or give me the Reader’s Digest condensed version of the highlights I missed.

It seems like every time we put one in, I am reminded of some aspect of life that time has washed from my mind. Those films tell stories of good days, before sickness and heartache – when life’s weighty matters were birthday parties, lost toys, and homemade dramatic productions.

One thing that came to light recently was “Funday, Bunday” and it gave me quite a smile. When our third daughter, JB, was very little, she was testing the waters of ballet. She seemed to love it, but there was one problem. On ballet days, the dancers were required to wear ballet buns to school because there wouldn’t be time to fix their hair between the end of school and rehearsal. Little JB liked dance, but she did not like wearing her ballet bun all day. Her long, curly, beautiful hair has always been a point of pride. Although she assures us that the issue was not vanity but comfort, I am not perfectly convinced.

Her older sisters stepped in. Of their own accord, they volunteered to wear ballet buns to school with JB. This became known as Funday, Bunday and kept JB going when she nearly quit dancing simply because of the all-day bun.

Flash forward to today. Ballet is her life’s passion. She adores it, is incredibly good at it, and will likely continue dancing into college. She even teaches ballet to little dancers in their tiny, tight ballet buns. In fact, I would credit ballet and close friends from her dance studio as the pivotal factor that moved her forward after the death of her sister.

And I wonder… if not for the encouragement of two people she admired, would she have quit?

We laugh at the memory of all of them headed to school with their hair up tight. At the time, her sisters had little understanding of the consequences of this little act. But in the end, it may have been huge.

Do I take advantage of such opportunities? Do you?

I want to be a better encourager.

All of us are given moments when we can go a little out of our way to say a kind word or do something that lifts up another fellow human. Can you and I act on those opportunities to encourage others? If more of us did, what would that look like? We might never see the results of our kindness, but a simple act might literally change the future for someone… like Funday, Bunday did.