A Dogs Life

The ole dog laid in the yard sunning her self. She stood, stretched, shook off the nap, and scanned the horizon. Noting the other dogs were shaded up she trotted over to a lone tree.  I watched as she sniffed around close to where a root had come to the surface just where the dirt was a little softer.
The soil gave way as she proceeded to dig, soon she looked up disenchanted and returned to her place in the sun.

Many times I witnessed as she wandered off to repeat it over and over again. It may of been near a bush, a post, next to the barn, another tree farther down the way. Then she would return back to whence she came and fell back a sleep.

Over the years I had noticed she buried plenty. Bones, raw hide chews, a pancake, scraps of toast.  To no avail her searches came up empty. Oh she came across some things here or there, but mother earth had claimed most of it.  What bones were found had hardened and lost flavor.

As I watched day after day in hopes she'd win, find the prize she desired, I found myself obtaining a new bone for her. She mauled it for days on end then carried it off.  Taking notice that she was alone she dug a new hole, carefully placed the bone within and buried it under. 

She trotted home to lay in the sun, accomplished.  As she slept another dog stood, stretched, and ran unearthed her bone.

At times I have been that dog. The bones and scraps are people in my life. Trying to spend time with each and then storing the good memories away. Time and trials came and the bones and scraps laid idle as I waited for the sun to come out again.

Soon the sun broke loose of the dark clouds that had me encompassed. I took time to enjoy the warmth and comfort it gives. Then I went looking for bones and scraps, most were missing or lay silent.

Lately I have been given bones in the most unexpected ways. One came in such a small gesture that I cried.  I had given to one a small scrap.  I had responded to a need he had for a class.  An old dog came and questioned my scrap.  I guess I was not allowed to associate or help.  This young man wrote back "Thank you".  So simple, so kind.

Once the cold darkness of trials fades and the Son/sun has had time to work its healing, after the light has washed the shadows and those that stand in them telling you, you are of no worth, then you have great desire to grow and give again.  In time you see from a clear perspective, gain the confidence to search or reach out, to find new bones.

I found me slowly looking for small bits of kindness.  Most holes were empty, taken by others.  Dogs that felt I shouldn't have kindness in my life, but kindness prevailed, I was given new bones.

The dogs that dung up the buried bones found there was nothing of worth.  The ole girl had consumed all the good parts.  All there was left in the ground was history.  It couldn't be changed just because some desire to take it from her. It amounted to nothing to the other dog.  Dogs that try to take happiness from one another don't truly know happiness.  Robbing others for your happiness is pain that will never be satisfied.