Dog Days / Faith & Truth / Family Life / The Social Network

Lessons from Jack

My Facebook, Instagram and even Twitter activity lately testify to this: I am nuts over our new pup. Amendment: I am nuts about everything but his razor baby teeth, which he uses incessantly and indiscriminately, and his unique bark/howl when he gets re-crated after my husband ventures forth to work. No more sleeping in for this family! Other than these minor annoyances, pecans, cashews and macadamias have nothing on me…

Weekday mornings I clomp down the stairs to free Jack from his perfectly comfortable kennel, and his greeting suggests that he was altogether certain he would never see me again. That kind of enthusiasm warms a girl’s heart, really. He takes a quick time out for a drink. Honestly, you’d think dehydration had set in, though in all likelihood no more than 30 minutes elapsed since his last gulp. Invariably, the excitement over my appearance (or is it merely his being set free!?!) wins out, the water bowl’s waves subside — and my right foot gets a dousing with the remains of his drink. Damp feet, bed head to scare the neighbors, and an eager pup. What more does a morning need? Well, coffee. Obviously. Once that cup is poured, Jack realizes I’m up for the duration, and promptly takes a much needed puppy nap, curling up on my feet (not AT them, mind you) and conking out. Puppy snores ensue. I love these days.

Upon awakening, he’s raring to go. This morning, he nabbed a squeaky toy and spent a few minutes pouncing on it, giving it a good shake, and simply prancing about the kitchen with it. Until his little black nose discovered the tennis ball. The dilemma that followed? He really wanted that tennis ball. He growled at it. Pawed it, nosed it across the floor, and sat, head cocked in that adorable way he has, and simply stared at it. All the while, the pink squeaky toy remained locked in his jaw. He wouldn’t relinquish the one for the other. Jaws clenched tightly around a mouthful, he still wanted more, and grew frustrated by the inability to ‘have it all.’

A lesson lurks, doesn’t it?

This isn’t the first time I’ve discovered a truth about how I need to be living from the pooch who lives with us.


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