The Westies are a pair - in more ways than one - of small white dogs, one female, the other a male. They live in a house where the backyard abuts the park. We start and end our walk across the street from the Westies’ house. When we first started walking in their park, Tux and the male Westie exchanged words. After several months, they stopped doing it. I think they just got tired of it. We walk every day unless the temperatures are below freezing or above 90. So after a while, it became too tiresome to trade insults.
On the other hand, Grace has exchanged nose bumps through the fence with both the male and female Westie. Tux maintains his dignity and won’t go near the fence. How, you might, ask does one determine which of the two white dogs is the female? That’s easy. She has a dainty, lady-like bark, while the male has a deeper, louder, and in-your-face kind of a bark.
One day, while Grace and the Westies were exchanging nose bumps, I noticed that someone had been trying to dig out beneath the fence. We went around the neighborhood and found the Westies’ front door. We reported the attempted prison break and received many thanks. Tux was mortified that we’d reported the Westies’ escape attempts. He wasn’t too keen to return to the park the next day lest he hear the dreaded daschunds murmur “Snitch” at him.
It only took another day for both Tux and the Westies to forget that they’d even tried to escape. All returned to normal. Thank goodness. There’s nothing harder to face than Tux when he’s embarrassed by something I’ve done.
Lesson Learned
It would be nice if we humans could forget intended and unintended slights and embarrassments as easily as Tux. He’s one of the lucky beings who lives pretty much in the moment. He doesn’t seem to worry about the future and quickly forgets the past. Would that we could all live life like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment