He’s just a little guy. But he’s shown me so much this week that I once knew and have since forgotten.
He wakes up in the morning full of joy. Each day holds fresh promise for him, and he greets it with eager anticipation. Will he get to hurl himself in the grass with untold abandon? Will he spend hours with a new chew toy to massage his mouth? Will there be cottage cheese in his bowl for lunch?
I’ve forgotten what it means to be so full of wonder.
The two kitties, once queens of the house, are in dismay. They can’t imagine what has happened to the tranquility they took for granted. Humphrey asks them with regularity to play, and he is met with hisses which are now accompanied by low growls in the throat. From cats.
But he is not daunted. This puppy with one mode of locomotion, bouncing, has one attitude: “Do you want to play? Do ya wanna play? D’yawannaplay?” He asks them repeatedly, each time more eagerly, and every time he is rebuffed he returns in a little bit to ask anew.
I’ve forgotten what it means to forgive.
So he bounces and cries and coughs and wags and works his way into our hearts. Like the kitties, we have now forgotten what it meant to live quietly, which we did only a short while ago.
But I will not forget the lessons I learned from this little one, just in his first week of training me.