According to a training manual I recently read, dogs are “scavengers of opportunity.” Yesterday, as I was writing my post, Nessie found her opportunity in the form of a dish towel. The smell combination of food, dirt and humanity was irresistible.
I didn’t hear her place her paws lightly on the counter. I didn’t see the stealthy slink to the other side of the love seat. My only clue was a luxuriously long silence in which to work.
My subconscious moved this uninterrupted quiet from a blessing to the too-good-to-be-true category and finally into the highly suspicious slot before I finally looked up. I heard a quiet chewing sound. This always requires investigation.
I walked around the love seat to find one-third of a dish towel hanging out of Nessie’s mouth. Labs will eat anything, up to and including the deck on your house. My job is to prevent that from being something my wife loves or something that will hurt Nessie. Suzie does not love dish towels but I had still failed.
The Harvest
Nessie threw up her food for the rest of the day. I know from previous experience that this means no good. Now I’m waiting for the vet to open in hopes of averting surgery.
One moment (okay, maybe several moments) of distraction yesterday has already taken a big chunk of my day today, before it even started.
I’d like to blame Nessie but I can’t. I’m just reaping my own harvest.
I’m Responsible
I hate that. All I did was grow and get older. How is that my fault?
Before I knew there was one, things were going on my permanent record. Deceitful, creeping responsibility!
I’m a musician after all. Am I not supposed to get a pass on all of this responsibility stuff?
It Comes From Love
The problem is, I love Nessie. Before Christmas I didn’t even know Nessie. A few months before that she didn’t exist. Now here I am cleaning up puppy barf.
All it took was one picture on my cell phone. Suddenly, I’m willing to turn my life upside down for a green-eyed, chocolate fur ball with a blaze of white on her nose.
Love takes so little time to take hold. Love holds on so powerfully once it exists.
So here I am – responsible.
The only other option is not to love. And that’s not really living at all.
What I Get
But that’s not the entire story. I get back more than I give.
Responsibility is not the main thing. It’s just a side effect of love.
One good tail-flailing, face-licking, whining, ecstatic, vibrating welcome home when all I’ve done is go to the mailbox makes it all worthwhile.
Remind me of that when the vet bill comes.
Responsibility is a side effect of love.
P.S. I’ll update you here on Nessie.
Update!
2:35 PM est
Small handfuls of food, lots of water and limited exercise have kept Nessie happy and surgery free so far.
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