Trust or Lazy?

I adore my dog Libby.  Simply adore her.  She’s my companion, the only other female energy in a house full of males, and according to my son, if only she had been a Black Lab instead of a Yellow Lab, it would be appropriate to change her name to Shadow since that’s what she is to me…my perpetual shadow.  (“Save it for the next dog,” my other son offered up.  “You know that one will follow Mom around too.”)

And although Libby does follow me from room to room, at my heels every moment of the day, I believe I observe her probably more than she observes me.  In the past seven years worth of observations, I’ve noticed she has a knack for positioning herself in the EXACT spot to be tripped on (and with these boys, sometimes trampled).

Family members walk OVER her all the time.  She NEVER moves.  I step over her when I cook.  When I wash dishes.  I’ve been known to straddle her body when I wash my face at night.  She’ll fall asleep in the room I exercise in with my boys, and doesn’t budge, despite the fact that we’re jumping, lunging, and kicking – - at times, less than an inch from her nose or a paw.

 

Libby on the stairs

Libby's favorite sleeping spot. And yes, we step over her here, too, no matter how much stuff we happen to be carrying.

 

Someone else might see this lack of desire to move on her part as lazy.  Others might say she’s stupid.  (Hello, she’s a Lab.  She’s anything but stupid.)  I’ve always figured she just Trusts.  If she didn’t have the Trust that she has, I don’t think she’d be so peaceful each time we step over her or come within an inch of her nose.  She simply isn’t worried that we’re going to step on her.  There’s no anxiety whatsoever.

I like that.  No worry.  No anxiety.  Only Trust.

Thanks, Libby.  You’re an excellent teacher.

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Here are a few non-Libby pictures, but all VERY cute and remind me of Trust:

Dog Bite to the Face

The story that follows is from my friend Lydia:

On the last day of our vacation on the West Coast, we were having dinner at our friend’s house.  It was a noisy get together with seven adults and eight kids.  We had already swam in the pool, the kids pulled out every single toy into the yard to play with;  now it was time to eat!!

We all gathered around the table and started to prepare plates for the kids. While the adults were all preoccupied with the meal, I didn’t realize my daughter had started to pet our friend’s dog.  In the midst of all the activity, I heard a quick, “Ruufff!!!”  No big deal, right?

The dog had, in one swift move, snapped at my daughter and bit her in the face.  It was so fast, no one actually saw the bite occur, but my husband noticed right after the fact.  My daughter began to cry.  She had her hands over her face as my husband swept her up into his arms.

I couldn’t tell how badly she was bitten.  We took her into the kitchen and started to rinse her wounds in the sink.  She cried even louder, either from the stinging of the wounds or just the shock of the cold water.  With her hands away from her face, I had a better gauge of where exactly on her  face the wounds were.

There was so much blood.

I could tell my husband was incredibly distressed and worried.  However, I felt strangely calm.  I knew from her cry that it was a pain cry, not an intense pain, but a “really big booboo” kind of a cry.  I also knew that from the location of her wounds, it wasn’t too serious, it was just skin.

Don’t get me wrong.  It sucked and I wished it hadn’t happened at all, but I’m glad it was her nostril and her cheek and not her eyeball.  I didn’t care if it would scar.  I didn’t care if we had to be at the hospital all night.  I KNEW in my heart that Everything would be all right.  I KNEW my daughter would heal.  I KNEW God was with us.  I just KNEW.

That was my Trust Life moment.

So we spent that night in the emergency room.  I felt mostly relief as the hospital staff confirmed that there was no serious damage.  We played “I, Spy” and told stories while waiting for the pediatric plastic surgeon.  (Who knew they specialize like that?)  I spent the night singing all the Top 40 toddler favorites.

-as told by Lydia about her daughter Alyssa

Lydia tells this story in such a factual and raw way.  To end it here would definitely work, but I feel compelled to briefly share what was happening on my end.  We were living in the UK when this happened.  I was feeling pretty out of touch with my girlfriends back home, so I was super happy to receive an email from Lydia – and look – there are pictures attached!  Open the attachment and T-O-T-A-L recoil.  I could NOT believe that was Alyssa’s face.  I mention this to make a point: to actually SEE the damage, then to hear Lydia tell the story of the trust she felt, well, it’s almost paradoxical.  I have to believe this is a prime example of what a KNOWING feels like…just like she described it.

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Lydia for allowing me to share her story with you.  I welcome such stories and would be honored to share yours.