Flowers and Lead

Flowers and Lead

My oldest dog just died.  We only had him for two years; we adopted him when he was 14.  Name was Merck.  He was born in Wales, so he was an immigrant I guess.  He was a great dog.  Loving and sweet, tolerant and chipper (on his good days).  And, quite a handsome fellow for a Border Collie. 

Of course, in our hearts, as a family, he’s only moved on and not really gone.  But as I was standing by his grave (which I dug – took two days) with our other adoptee, another Border Collie, the transitory nature of life flitted across my small mind.  Dogs can come into our lives as puppies, as did our beloved Max (a yellow lab) and we watch them age before our eyes.  Or, we can provide a home for older dogs, who have worked their whole lives as ours have.  Herding sheep or protecting our airplane runways from nesting geese, which can be quite hazardous for the airplanes and the geese.  Asking for nothing but shelter and food and love.  The most important of these is the love.

And, it’s not as though as humans we have greater lives, or are necessarily more important to the overall universe (?).  We just have longer lives.  Standing next to most species of tree or sea turtles, we are like week-enders.  In a microcosm, or possibly macrocosm (not sure, that’s a conundrum).  It’s been my experience though, almost all dogs that are raised with love and respect, just simply love back.  That’s about it.  If they are mistreated, or treated with cruelty, they will either protect themselves or will whither in spirit, shut down and die. 

And giving, showing, treating others with love is also, just so-o-o easy.  It is so easy to just love.  Yes, you can be hurt by others, and taken advantage of.  Sure being loving is often naïve.  Punched in one cheek and turning the other is maybe doubly (get it?) painful.  To many, if not most, it’s stupid and to the really stupid it is often seen as cowardly.  But, I’m talking about what quality of life a person chooses. 

Our human lifespan can be as brief as a dog’s.  Accidents, genetics, the chance of disease.  Our lives can be brief.  If we just happen to draw a good hand in the game of life, we can see many decades.  Occasionally even a century.  Juxtaposed to a dog’s lifespan though, we can choose to live that life in a high order and morally, or we can choose to be self-centered, self-serving and basically a shithead. 

“Love” is, in my mind (because all important lessons are taught by parable or analogy) – love is like carrying around a flower, held out towards all you encounter.  It’s very light and pretty.  It is fragile and can be broken, but we can always find, or purchase (they really aren’t expensive) another flower.  It’s the symbol, or gesture that counts.

“Hate”, however, is like a bucket of lead.  It takes a lot of energy to carry around.  A whole bucket, even a small bucket, of lead is really heavy.  You have to decide who to hate and you have to remember why you decided to hate them.  You gotta keep those things straight, especially if you live in a large urban place.  Just walking down the street in – like – New York, “hate that guy, that guy is okay, wait wait maybe he wasn’t???  What about that guy over there?  I think I’m supposed to hate him???  What were those rules again?  Was it race or religion?  Was it race and religion?  Just one of those, or both????  AARGgghhh!!! I can’t remember!!!”  What a dilemma.  Hate is so hard and heavy.

At my age, which is a lot of age, I just don’t have the energy and mental assuredness to deal with hate.  I actually never did quite get it, when it came to hate.  I did serve in the Army during the Viet Nam war, but I was really young and stupid and drafted.  Even if I had found myself in combat, which never actually happened, but if I did I’m pretty sure I’d have been killed.  “Why are you guys shooting at us?  Thud!!  Ouch!  That really hur……” 

One of my best friends in college was from Viet Nam.  I’m pretty certain, I’d have never figured out why I was supposed to shoot at them.  I’ve never like guns either.  They just struck me as – like – dangerous?  I mean – like – you pull that trigger and you are really committed to that action and if it was a mistake, you’re not gonna get that bullet back in the gun.  Sort of, it’s like voting for a President.  You put that vote in the ballot box, they don’t let you put your hand back in there if you change your mind.  That whole notion is also really heavy. 

So  … the next time you have to decide how to treat other people, maybe think about it and decide, “Do I wanna pick up a flower, or a bucket of lead?”