Of Dog and Dogma

Princess Paws
It’s minus 10 Celsius this morning. Feels colder. The plow went by last night, dropping salt and sand, so the street is a slushy mess. My Bernadette can’t bear with wet feet, and worse, snow between her pads. While walking to retrieve the mail, I felt an unusual resistance on the leash. I turn back to look at my dog. There she stood, not budging, front right leg lifted like a limp-wristed debutante. I reached down, cleaned out the minute amount of salty slush stuck between her pads and she happily trotted on.

Passive Aggressive Pause
Up the street, one house often has the garage door raised about 2 feet, housing an obnoxious dog who never fails to snarl and bark aggressively as we pass. I’m sure he’d bite one of us if he could just get free, but he’s safely barricaded away behind a baby gate. Bernadette adds to his humiliation by squatting in front of the driveway in full sight to “mark her territory, as if to sing, ”It’s My Street and I’ll Pee if I Want To.”

I’ve noticed since they moved in, she’s taken to doing this daily whether the dog is out or not.

Uh oh. They say dogs take on the personality of their owner. Do I respond humanly in a similar way? Expect others to groom me when conditions are less than favorable in my life? Refusing to move forward when it becomes challenging? Openly flaunting my freedom as a response to the frustrations of others?

Sure, that’s a quick jump from the animal kingdom to Thy Kingdom Come, but isn’t that what we should be thinking each day? How do I allow Kingdom values to live out in my life? Do I treat others like a dog? Do I act like a pampered purebred? Do the words I sing on Sunday morning actually find reality in the way I live and respond to others on Monday?

What ways do you find you can help bring heaven to earth in how you treat your neighbors and freeway colleagues?